


You are my clarity

by SingerOnTheRise



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blood, Brenner is the monster, Brother and sister relationship, Drama, Dustin is so cute, F/M, Father and Daughter Relationship, Happy Ending, Jopper, Lumax, M/M, Mileven, Romance, Tears, Will has a girlfriend, Will is a mess of feelings, but he still has not figured it out, he's gay, king steve, mother and daughter relationship, other numbers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 67,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingerOnTheRise/pseuds/SingerOnTheRise
Summary: "It's not just a nightmare, Mike." She sobbed against him, hands clenched into fists. "It's not ... He's alive.""Alive? You were having a nightmare with Brenner, he's not alive, he died that night at school, remember?""No," she wailed loudly and painfully. "I wish he was dead, I thought he was dead, but he's not. He's alive. He was alive all this time and now is back." Another sharp sob. "I saw him, Mike, Hop and Becky, too. My aunt might be a complete bitch, but she would not lie about it. "Brenner is alive, El's powers are out of control and there are other lab experiments in Hawkins.





	1. Prologue

**March 6, 1987**

 

The little hairpin shone as he pushed him away from the door and handed it back to his mistress. It was done, the house was open.

An invader of any houses would sketch a proud smile before that done. But he, who was not an invader, much less a thief (taking him for that would be to downplay his abilities), did not sketch any smile or something that indicated what he was feeling at that moment. The young man only opened the door and gave way to the blonde who was accompanying him to enter first.

The young couple had a plan in mind, a goal previously planned, so neither of them paid attention to the large living room or the valuables they had there. They were not there to steal the house, the main purpose being to assess their land and their future targets. They scrambled up the stairs and stood before a white door, decorated with elaborate, colorful designs. Sun, moon, flowers, butterflies, leaves; a world of drawings and prints on that door.

"Ridiculous" The blonde on his side grunted, tracing the flowers with his fingers, the purest greed gleaming in her eyes. Where things like that came from were not allowed. Many things were not allowed. Where they came from things like that were not allowed. Many things were not allowed.

Ignoring the frivolity of the blonde, he pushed open the door and entered the room. It was all so pink and lilac that for a moment he got confused. He had never seen anything so colorful and brilliant, especially considering the place where he had been brought up.

Shaking his head to himself, aware that he could not be confused, he returned to the real world and returned to study the room with skill. Everything in the place was delicate, from the bedspread embroidered with flowers to the carpet that covered the floor of the room. The excess of delicacy that existed there indicated that the person who lived there was weak, easy to manipulate. Or so he wanted it to be.

Frowning, one of the few reactions he allowed himself to sketch, he approached the bedside table and took one of the picture frames that lay next to a telephone.

The girl in the photo was small, she should not have been more than thirteen, and she smiled brightly. She, who had short hair with large, sparkling eyes, hugged a pale, freckled boy with dark hair as if he were a gigantic teddy bear. Their smile did not seem to fit on their youthful faces. They looked annoyingly cheerful. Why were they so happy?

With a scathing comment on the tip of his tongue, he turned to the blonde who was with him and found her by the bedroom window, her blue eyes wide and her face paralyzed in a horrible squeak.

"They're here," she stammered, pointing downstairs. " _She's_ here."

Keeping her breath calm, unabashedly (unlike the blonde, this was not the first time he'd done such a job), he turned to the window and leaned close enough to see what was going on outside.

There was a young couple close to the house enough to be seen and heard. They walked with each other; the boy's arms wrapped around the girl's thin, outlined waist. Even if he did not know, even if he was blind, he could tell that they were both boyfriend and girlfriend. The tune that existed between the two was obvious, so obvious that it was painful.

The boy was tall and awkward, his dark hair as night fell on his equally dark eyes, his pale face dotted with small imperfections also known as freckles. He wore ordinary clothing; it was all common. The girl was the complete opposite of him; was small, barely reaching the boy's shoulder, wore a dark pink dress, boots and a kind of gray jacket made of wool. She had long brown curls, big and bright eyes, her delicate face and naughty at the same time. She exuded power.

The truth came to him like a slap in the face: the couple now hugging themselves downstairs was the aged and improved version of the two children in the picture. They were the freckled boy and short-haired girl.

He knew their names, needed to know that, and also a little about their lives. He was Mike Wheeler, the only son of a litter of three children and from a family of appearances. She was Ellie Jane Hopper, or, as the young man had first met her, Eleven. She no longer looked like the Eleven he remembered; now she had hair, she was prettier and ... She had curves that made him feel warm inside.

Eleven was not like Mike Wheeler. Not from afar. She was special, powerful, full of potential to be exploited but ... But Wheeler got in the way. What the two of them were seeing at that moment was not even a shadow of what the girl could be. At least that was what they had told them.

"What's the matter, El?" The freckled boy asked when the nut answered nothing to a question asked about him. He stroked her hair gently, his fingers trailing through his soft curls with zeal. "You’re still thinking about the movie? You’re scared?"

Eleven shook her head at him, a warm smile shining on his lips.

"You offend me, Wheeler! I would never be afraid of that filthy movie." She answered and then sighed. "Have you ever had a bad feeling, Mike?

The two of them stopped in front of the house.

"Yes, but I'm sure that my feelings are not like yours." Wheeler stroked Eleven's face. "What's the matter, Ellie?"

For some reason he felt jealous as the Wheeler boy touched Eleven's face. That idiot should not touch her; he should not even breathe the same air as her, a person who clearly was better than him in every way.

"Lately I've had a horrible feeling inside me, a hunch that tells me something bad is about to happen. It may be silly of me, but ... I can not let go of that." She sniffed. "I think I'm just scared, you know, I've been scared it will not end, I'm afraid it's going to be a great government science experiment again."

"That will not happen, El. The lab set you free, you're free now."

Eleven frowned.

"I know, it's just ... Forget it, you're right. They will not come back. They will not take me away from you never again."

Wheeler, who seemed about to reply Eleven's words, seemed to change his mind completely as she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. The two of them stayed there for a long time. It was as if some invisible force were clinging to the two and preventing them from separating.

When the two finally separated, their cheeks flushed, their breaths breathless. Eleven was disheveled, but this, unlike Wheeler, did not diminish her brilliance or the glow of her beauty. While the Wheeler looked pathetic, she seemed extremely powerful. Power radiated from her, literally.

Not allowing him to continue with the ramblings that invaded his mind, the couple began a new kiss, this being a little longer than the other. The blonde beside him, who had come out of his horror and now watched the scene with interest, nudged her pointed at something that was happening. The light from the balcony, which illuminated the couple, seemed to have created life and kept blinking on and on. In synchrony with a low female grunt, the light began to shine ten times brighter than the ordinary.

"You know what that was, right?" He asked the blonde.

The blonde denied it and he wondered if she could not be more obtuse. The two had finally separated, and this time they did not seem to be much inclined to relapse. Eleven, in fact, seemed inclined to this.

"That was hot, Mike, definitely hot." She exclaimed agitatedly and then, as she snuggled into the boy's arms, she muttered: "Can not you stay here for a little while? Just until Hop and Joyce arrive."

Wheeler shook his head.

"You know the sheriff will not like to come and meet me here with you."

But even stating this, the boy stayed with her and only left when a tall man, a short woman and a slender young man appeared in a car. The arrival of the family and the agitation it caused was loud enough for the two serving as audience to come into action and leave the house.

They ran down the stairs in surprisingly quiet footsteps, opened the back door, and ran into the garden and the forest that existed there. He was about thirty yards from the house when he stopped running, an idea popping into his mind. It would be foolhardy for him to do that, but ... But he'd never wanted to do anything like he'd wanted at the moment. He needed to get close to her, the little girl with curly hair.

"What are you doing?" The blonde hissed, noting that he was gone. She was ten steps away from him, her cheeks flushed with effort. "We have to go!"

He dismissed her concern with a nod.

"You can go. I'm going after. I need to see something."

The blonde looked at him irritably, her fists clenched.

"You're such an idiot!" The girl roared around to join him. "You're going to lose everything with your fucking obsession. It's going to put us in danger!"

"I'm not asking you to come with me." He did not flex his voice when said that. "I'm not inviting you."

Perplexity crossed the steel-carved face of the blonde girl. She, who had always been more adept at sketching what she felt in her facial expressions and in her attitudes, raised both hands and used them to make an obscene double gesture.

"You know, it's your ass that's taking the risk." Something flashed in her blue's eyes; anger and a clear resentment. "See you later, asshole."

The girl ran into the forest as he ran in the opposite direction, back to the Hawkins Sheriff's house. A few steps from the terrain of the house he paralyzed himself where he was and immediately hid behind a tree. Eleven was outside.

Now wearing a thin set of shorts and light blue short T-shirt, Eleven was alone on the porch of the house. Seated in a rocking chair they had placed there before, she hugged herself with brown eyes fixed and distant. The curls were stuck in a messy bun.

He knew that approaching her was a danger, in doing so he would probably put the whole plan to waste and consequently suffer consequences. He did not try to approach her, he continued where he was just looking for a position where he could observe her better. This movement, this change of position, made him step on a small branch that barely sounded. No matter the intensity of the noise, what really mattered was that Eleven had been brought up to listen to the least of the noises and that she had certainly heard that one.

He raised his head and saw just how terribly certain he was. Eleven had really listened to the noise of the cursed little branch of the tree, and now he was standing, his haughty stance, his eyes glowing dangerously, his right hand extended before him. She was ready to defend herself and attack.

"Who's there?" She demanded looking back and forth. "I know you're there, I can feel your presence.

He should be cursing himself mentally, hating himself being so reckless, but the only thing that occupied his mind was her words. I can feel her presence ... She really could do that, feel it? And if she really did, could she recognize him?

"Are not you going to show up? Are you really going to force me to do that?"

The girl's face took on a glow of danger and he could almost feel the power exhaling from her when ... When the front door was opened with a crash that startled both him and her. The girl's glow died away as a tall, flowing brown haired boy came out and looked at her with his sleepy green eyes.

"Ellie? What's wrong, what are you doing out here?"

Still looking wild, Eleven turned to the flowing boy.

"It's nothing, Will ... I-I thought I heard something, but it was certainly just an animal."

"You should not just be out in your pajamas, it's too cold." The boy frowned. "Why are you up at this time of night? It's late and we have chemistry tests early tomorrow."

"I had a nightmare. It was no big deal. You know, I dreamed that bears made of jujube invaded the house and me clogged with sticky toffees."

"You hate jujube, Ellie, and I know you're lying." The boy ruffled his own hair. "When you have nightmares you can go to my room, okay? I'll talk to you."

"Are you trying to play the big brother with me, William?"

"You bet, Ellie."

Eleven nodded and threw herself into his arms as the young man hiding in the shadows decided that it was time for him to leave. He had seen what he needed to see (he had seen more than he had to) and it was time for him to face the person he had told him to go to Hawkins' sheriff's house, the person he had disobeyed when he stayed there.

He moved into the forest, completely oblivious to the strange noises that the animals that slept there at night did. The only thing that really shook him was the austere, white-haired man who waited for him in front of the old factory they had taken for a house.

It was irrational that he, a nineteen-year-old (or at least that age he thought he was), was afraid of a neat man like the one staring at him. Nonsense. It was not possible not to be afraid of that man, not when the images of him locking him in a dark room, beating him and showing no gentleness would arise whenever he looked directly at him.

"Papa ..." He started to say and then flinched as the man's blue eyes glowed coldly. "I have information." He tried again, believing it would lessen the harsh words he would receive.

The older man raised his eyebrows at him.

"Really? I hope your information is different from your sister passed me."

"I, uh ..."

"I'm waiting, Ten. Your sister told me that Eleven is a fool in love, which is a complete waste of time." Papa said, the same coldness that lit his eyes ringing his voice. "Do you agree with her report?"

He nodded in disgust, gathering everything he knew his sister had missed. His sister was too inexperienced, letting go of the main details, and attached to irrelevant things.

"By no means will Sir Eleven ever be a waste of time for us." He responded by shifting his position, uncomfortable. "Her powers, Sir, are getting bigger and bigger, I think she can not control them, it has not happened yet, but that's clearly what happens."

"Something more to be added?"

"Her powers, Sir, I believe they are not limited to tele ..."

"Telekinesis." Papa corrected him impatiently. "What do you suggest?"

The young man shook his head.

"Her powers are also increasing, and if my conjectures are correct, and they are, she will be here with us in less than one hour, year."

He did not understand half the words spoken by Papa. She realized that Eleven's powers were large, that they were growing larger, but that she would return to their side.

In a few months, when she no longer had full control over her own powers and herself, Eleven would return to them. No one would understand her the way they would.

"My sister will come back, papa?"

Calling the "papa" man was a habit he had not let go of. It was hard not to do that, and Martin Brenner did not seem to be upset either.

"That's right, Ten. Soon your sister will be here with us, on our side, she will occupy the place she should never have left."


	2. Something is wrong in the kingdom of Hawkins

 

**December 14, 1987**

 

Mike, whose freckled face was lit by the brightness of Jim Hopper's television set, really should be paying attention to the film. He really should, but he couldn't. He just couldn't pay attention to the man in a hockey mask just as his friends did. He just... couldn'd.

It was impossible to focus on anything but the brown-haired girl who was sleeping against him. She was visibly at peace. El had been visibly upset over the past few months, quiet in a way that displeased Mike enormously. It was as if, little by little, she was backing away from the meager vocabulary she used when she was a lab girl. Something was disturbing her.

There was something wrong with her, Mike knows that. El didn't say anything to him, but he knows, it's impossible not to know when all the signs are there. Her dark circles grew darker, her face more and more devoid of blush, the unusually stillness since she was twelve, and the exasperated drowsiness in every situation. He doesn't know what his girlfriend has, but he knows he's not doing her any good. El is slowly sinking into an endless sadness.

 _What do you have, El?_ He sighed, not very conscious of himself. _Why don't you tell me what's going on?_

He looks away away from her, to see someone else in the room realizes what is happening with El. Nobody. Everyone is focused on the film, everyone except Will, who quickly turns his gaze back to the television when Mike discovers it. The Byers doesn't turn to look at him, keeps his eyes fixed on the television as if it were being killed if he did that.

Mike loved hanging out with friends and watching rented movies, he loved the way El always kept hitting him, her face buried in the hollow of Mike's neck. But... There was something different that night, something that bothered him and made the hair on the back of his neck go up. It was a bad feeling, as if something really lousy was about to happen.

He shook his head. Negative thoughts attract negative things, that's what his grandfather used to say and Mike was not willing to test her wisdom. No bad thoughts. Mike turned to the television screen. He was being an idiot. Nothing bad would happen and El was probably just having some trouble with his girlish things. Was she having _those days_?

But then why while he looked at her he couldn't believe it? Why couldn't he convince himself? Because it was a lie and he knew it. It was not _those_ _girl days_ , and only they have them; it was more than that.

"No!" El's voice, hoarse and agonized, cut the silence that hung in the living room. "No, I don’t want to, please ..."

All eyes immediately fell upon her, curious and at the same time concerned. Will's green eyes flashed accusingly toward Mike. The Wheeler boy didn't see this, he was too busy bending over his girlfriend and finding out what she had.

The girl was still asleep against him, her eyes closed. But there had been a noticeable change in her aura. El, who had once been in her delicate features with serenity, now stirred uneasily, her rosy lips moving in disjointed phrases, her frown and her nose wrinkled. She was having a nightmare.

"Papa." She whimpered softly, her eyelids clenched involuntarily. "I don't want to go ... I don't want ..."

Shit !, he thought looking at the girl who clung to him. The lights of the house, the lights of the Christmas tree, immediately acquired a blinding glow. He didn't have to be a genius to know who was doing it. But since when could she make it unconscious?

"It's just a nightmare, El." Will tried to comfort. It didn't work and Mike was not sure if it had happened because of the lack of conviction in his voice. "Come on, El, it's just a nightmare."

The girl arched a little away from Mike, an unconscious face stained with panic.

"El, please, El. It's just a nightmare." It was Mike's turn to try. He just wanted to end the anguish she felt. "It's not real, El. It's just a nightmare."

"Seventh only this week," Will grunted. "Come on, Ellie ..."

The girl's unconscious cries ceased as abruptly as they had begun, her breath catching. For a minute, a long minute, her gasping breath and the screams from the television were the only sounds echoing through the house. El's eyes opened suddenly, they were wide and full of sheer fear.

There wasn't that state of torpor that always strikes people when they wake up; nothing similar. She seemed to know exactly where she was and what had just happened. With the help of Mike and Will, still on the looks of the friends (Max had a pale face and Lucas and Dustin seemed to suffer from a serious belly ache), she sat down. Her body trembled with the sobs she struggled to quell.

"What was that?" Max questioned and then, seeming to come back to himself, realized that it did not matter what had happened and, yes, how his friend was. "I mean… you're okay, Ellie?"

Max's question encouraged Lucas, Dustin, and Will to do the same. El's well being was questioned several times what Mike found unnecessary. Of course she was not well. She was trembling with fear, pale as a sheet of paper. Was not this all enough as a clear indicator of I'm not well? Why did they do that? Mike really liked his friends, but at certain times, when El was upset and they kept stuffing her with questions like that, he really wanted to get them to shut up.

El opened her mouth to respond, her pink lips had sound of a thousand splinters of light echoed through the living room. The lights of the big Christmas tree in the living room had just exploded one by one. If possible, El's breathing became even more agitated, as if she were approaching a panic attack.

Mike tried to stroke his arms, tried to convey to her a modicum of tranquility, but she didn't allow him to do so. As soon as he touched her, as if struck by an unpleasant electric current, El jumped from where he was sitting and ran up to the second floor of the house.

Everyone sat still, listening to her sobs and hurried footsteps. Her footsteps never ceased, and even though she was slightly hurt by her reaction, it indicated to Mike that she was not curled up in a corner of her room as the obvious deduction indicated. She had other plans.

There was a brief hiatus of two minutes for her to resurface. He still wore the same faded jeans, the same white T-shirt and the same boots, but now, on top of it all, he had thrown a dark blue velvet hooded jacket. She seemed to swallow a painful sob as she faced them. She was devastated.

"I ... I need air, okay?" Stammered playing the hood of the coat over her brown curls, her voice cracking. "I'll be right back."

"It's cold out there, El." Will said getting up and walking toward her. "You can not just run away from home whenever you have a nightmare."

El looked cornered before the Will of closeness, as if he were hurt by doing this.

"I need to be alone, Will."

"Well, to be alone in your room. If you lock the room like any normal girl does." Will massaged the weather as if with a headache, his tone the same as that used with a small child. "Any teenager is locked in the room, El. Escape into the forest is not normal ..."

A sore sob escaped the girl's lips and before Will finished his monologue, before Mike could have any reaction, before anyone could do or say anything, she waved her hand for the door to open and ran out home; ran to the forest.

One

Two

Three

Four

And ...

The noise that exploded in the once silent house Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper shared could probably be heard more than two miles away. Five noisy teenagers yelling at each other for answers to what had just happened. Will was the only one who knew what had just happened, but he did not seem very inclined to answer questions.

Well, Mike was not too inclined to wait for answers either. He needed to go after his girlfriend, to make sure she was all right. Determined, he reached for a clothes rack, pulled on a heavy coat, and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Knocking the door behind him was not a good idea, he drew attention to him.

"What are you doing?" He inquired as he saw himself side by side with his friends.

"We're going after your girlfriend, Will's sister, with you," Lucas replied, playing with a flashlight. "You did not think we'd let you go alone, did you?"

"The discussion you were having seemed to be making you very busy, and I did not want to upset the big time."

Dustin threw a flashlight at him.

"Dude, stop being stupid and just let us follow you."

Mike did not answer, he continued to walk into the forest. He hated walking in the woods during the day and will tell the night. The last time Mike had walked through the woods during the night the shadows of the night looked like monsters lurking, about to attack him and devour his soul and his best friend had been captured by a monster; now, four years after that, Mike's shadows and aversion to the place had not changed.

If they were to ask Mike how long he stayed in the woods looking for El, he simply could not answer. She had no idea how long it had been until she heard the girl's aching sob. Was her; Mike had not heard her cry many times, but she knew it was her. He would recognize her anywhere.

They found El under an old pine tree, sitting in the snow that stained the forest floor. He hugged his knees against his body, his face hidden. A little ball of sadness wearing jeans, boots and blue velvet.

"El?" Max called and got a sob in reply. "Come on, girl, you can not stay like this."

"Go away."

Mike did not hesitate to approach the tearful girl who was his girlfriend, he also did not hesitate to sit next to her or wrapped his arms around his trembling body.

"El" He stroked the velvet that covered her arms, glad she had not walked away. "It's all good, El. It was just a nightmare, that's all."

The chestnut buried his face against his chest. She did not see her friends or foster brother approaching; if she had, she probably would not have dared to utter a single word.

"It's not just a nightmare, Mike." She sobbed against him, hands clenched into fists. "It's not ... He's alive."

"Alive, you were having a nightmare with Brenner, he's not alive, he died that night at school, remember?"

"No," she wailed loudly and painfully. "I wish he was dead, but he is not, he's alive, he's been alive all this time and now he's back." Another sharp sob. "I saw him, Mike, Hop and Becky, too. My aunt might be a cow, but she would not lie about it."

No one dared to speak. The conviction in El's voice leaves no doubt; she knew exactly what she was talking about and that was scary. Brenner was alive ... He could not be alive. It was impossible. The demogorgon had killed him.

"My powers" El continued to sob clinging to it. "I lately have not had much control over them ..."

El's voice trailed off as a sharp sound echoed through the forest. It was like the sound of a dead animal falling or crawling on the ground. Mike immediately squeezed El's body over himself as the others fell into a still more concerned silence than the previous one. The thought they shared was the same: demogorgon. The monster was dead, but it was impossible not to think of it when he heard a noise in the woods at night.

Still squeezing El against himself, Mike rose from the ground and looked everywhere, to every spot in the jungle that his friends lit up with lanterns. Nothing, he could not see anything. No one said anything, no one waved or gave a signal; everyone simply began to retreat in complete synchrony.

"Eleven"

No one had called her Eleven for a long time, and Mike was a witness to that. Jane, Ellie, El, Sophie; that was how Mike's girlfriend was known. Everyone, absolutely everyone in town knew her as Ellie Jane Hopper, being that they were the only ones to call her El. No one knew her more as Eleven, well, at least no one who did not take risks.

The voice calling for El was male; it was not the voice of Mike, Dustin, Lucas or Will. It was the voice of a stranger who knew and called by her name. This heightened the girl's upset state. She, who had stopped shaking, tensed against Mike's body, as if to hide.

Mike knew what she was thinking, what everyone was thinking. El, in tears, had just confessed that Brenner was alive, and then, shortly after, a man named after his former name, the name by which only Brenner and the men of Hawkins's lab used to refer to her. So even though the voice that sounded through the dark forest sounded like the voice of a boy who had just passed through puberty, the voice of someone young and grieved, they could not help raving and thinking that it was Brenner. He was there to take El away from them.

"Who's there?" Lucas barked into the darkness as Dustin and Will pointed the light of their lanterns in every possible direction. "Look, we're not unprotected, understand? We have a way to defend ourselves and if you do something cute we will not hesitate to attack."

"We are ready to defend ourselves!" Dustin said menacingly.

 

Lucas and Dustin were not bluffing, they really had how to defend themselves. After 1983 none of them were dumb enough to go out into the streets and through the Hawkins forest without any protection. Max, for being part of the lacrosse team, always walked with his metal bat, Lucas, Dustin, Will and Mike took turns in what they carried in the pocket of their jeans and small rusty knives and scissors were their favorite objects.

The fact is they would never get caught without fighting. They were no longer a bunch of twelve-thirteen-year-olds, and they no longer allowed anyone to stop them from defending themselves.

"Eleven" The person called again. "Eleven ... Eleven ..."

Mike felt his body stiffen El. She was truly frightened.

"Eleven ... Eleven, please ... Eleven ..."

There was a brief bustle on the west side of the forest, the side opposite to what they were, and they all turned to see what it was about. Mike hid Eleven behind him when a tall, thin silhouette emerged amid the trees and shrubs.

"Do not approach!" Will ordered, his voice shaking. He was clearly thinking of the demogorgon the night he had been captured. "Do not approach another step. You will not get near my sister and if you dare try to do this I swear I'll ..."

"Eleven ... Eleven ... Eleven ... Eleven ... Please, Eleven ..."

Contrary to Will's command, the tall figure stepped forward. This triggered the fury of Max. The girl, with her red hair shining in the moonlight, ran up the person called by El. There was a silvery sheen and then a muffled thud of a body falling to the ground.

Everyone approached to see more closely. The body lying on the floor was a boy a little older than them, maybe three or four years older, thin. Messy brown hair fell on his face, but that did not catch the attention of the small group of teenagers, but rather the clothes he wore. It was winter in Hawkins, the worst winter since Mike first met, and the boy lying on the floor wore nothing but a thin hospital gown. No shoes, jacket, scarf. Anything.

"Oh my God, I killed a guy wearing a dress! I killed a guy!"

"What the hell is he wearing?" Dustin asked, leaning over the boy's body. "That is..."

"Fuck what he is wearing, Dustin!" Max brandished his lacrosse stick. "I killed a guy. I killed a guy! I'll be arrested! El, your father will put me in jail! No university will accept me after that ... Oh, God, and I will never leave Hawkins!"

Still sniffing and hiding behind Mike, El stood on tiptoe and peered at the body.

"I do not think he's dead." She whispered to him, her voice crying. "By the way, these clothes ..."

"Guys" Dustin, who was poking and studying the fallen body, called. "You need to see this."

"Dustin, I do not want to see a dead body more closely."

Dustin rolled his eyes.

"The guy is not dead, MadMax." He took the boy's wrist. "And that's really serious. You need to see that."

Mike, feeling the gravity in his friend's voice, leaned over to see what he was trying to show. He managed to restrain himself, but El, who had refused to leave him, could not. She gasped loudly, loud enough to catch her friends' attention and shut them up.

Dustin, God knows why, was holding the fainting boy's wrist and pointing at the tattoo on his wrist.

**010**


	3. The boy that Maxine Mayfield nearly killed

 

**December 14, 1987**

 

While everyone leaned over the boy's body that Max had nearly killed who was lying on the couch while everyone took turns in their speculations and poke the boy with tattoo 010, Mike engaged in caring for El. He had hurt him to have to letting go of El and helping his friends haul the stranger to the Byers-Hopper house, and now that he was free of that responsibility, his attention was entirely on his girlfriend.

Mike helped him to sit on the couch opposite the boy who had passed out, she did not need it, but he wanted to help her. He needed to be close to her, to see how she felt after all that had happened. He wrapped his arms around her and felt a small surge of pleasure as she snuggled in close to him. The fear of the nightmare that had so tormented her had left her body. Now all that was left was a shameless brown with slightly reddish eyes.

He did not like to see her in that state, so serious and distant from him. His girlfriend was not like that, not from a distance. This thought made him involuntarily squeeze against her. The only thing in the world that Mike wanted was to protect her, to ensure her well-being that she had already suffered in twelve years for a lifetime. El did not deserve to suffer more; she should never have suffered.

To this day Mike wondered how rotten Martin Brenner's soul was so he had dared to hurt El. Martin Brenner was the fucking asshole of all time, he was the worst kind of person who had ever set foot on the face of the earth. Mike would never forgive him for hurting El when she was just a kid and still hurting him. Mike hated him with all the strength he had.

The two of them were silent, watching the noise created by their friends. Mike knew El well enough to know when she wanted to talk and when she wanted to be quiet and at that moment, more than ever, she wanted to be quiet. El wanted to stay with his thoughts and it would not be Mike that would stop her from doing this.

It would be her adopted brother, Will, that would keep the silence she needed so much from prevailing.

"Do you know him?" Will asked, pausing in front of the couple. "Ellie, do you know him? Does he look familiar to you?"

Will was standing before them, arms folded across his chest and an aura of indignation surrounding him. Why was he acting like he was guilty of something?

"Will, I don’t think El ..."

He stopped when El took his hand shook slightly. Mike knew her well enough to know that it meant that El was asking him not to interfere, that she could handle it without his help.

At first El only remained silent, huddled against him and staring at his brother. He seemed to be testing his foster brother's patience or ... Finding out the ground he was about to step on. El would never put her feet in an unknown terrain or offering risks to it.

"You're angry," El said faintly, a distant voice. "You're not angry with Ten or me, but you're raging ..."

"Enough, Jane, we're not here to talk about me." Will interrupted El looking frustrated with himself and with her. "I do not want to talk about myself." He frowned. "Ten? Is that his name?"

El nodded softly, the nod of his head almost imperceptibly.

"We were numbers for the people in the lab."

"There were others, is that it?"

"Of course they existed." El responded more gently than Will deserved. The tone of voice he used with her was outrageous, as if he were trying to punish her for something. "I was Eleven and, to my knowledge, there were three others."

The commotion had subsided considerably enough for Max, Dustin, and Lucas to hear what El had just said.

Mike must have been surprised, everyone should be, but none of them were. Everyone knew that El was not the first or only experiment in Hawkins's laboratory, that was clear in the way they had named it. Eleven. They had existed ten other experiments, ten children to suffer at the hands of Martin Brenner until the time of El arrived. Her turn should never have come, but the tattoo on her wrist, the small number imprinted on her skin was a clear reminder that fate disagreed with it.

Even knowing that there were others like El, Mike had never bothered to wonder where they were or what had happened to them. It might sound pretentious from him, extremely selfish, God knows how he knew it, but El was fine and that was all that mattered to Mike. Of all the experiments in Hawkins's lab, she had been the one to catch the attention of the dark Wheeler. She was all that mattered.

"Eight, Nine, Ten." She pointed at the fainted young man. "And I, Eleven. Those who came before us ... Let's say we had more luck than them."

The brunet immediately understood what this "luck" meant. The other seven had not endured the laboratory's oppressive environment. They were dead.

He squeezed involuntarily into El's body, the morbid thought that she might have had that same sad luck, that she might be dead. Mike shuddered as he imagined El's brown eyes completely devoid of life, her body, so small and delicate, fallen into a ditch.

 

"Did you ever get along with others?" Dustin asked softly. "Did you ever get along with the guy Max almost killed?"

"I only left him unconscious! I did not kill anyone." Max pointed, his freckles fading in the flush of his face. "I just left him unconscious for my friend's well-being."

"Thanks for defending me, Maxie." El's weary sigh made itself heard. "I, uh ... I lived with them, yes. There was me and him and Eight and Nine. I did not know he was alive, you know? After a while all disappeared and presumably believed they were dead."

Mike imagined El, much smaller and more innocent than his sister, having to see the other children she had been living with and believing they were being killed.

"The first to disappear was the Eight, led her and she never came back. Two, Nine and Ten, were next. I was alone." Mike felt him shudder and hugged her even tighter. He wanted to hide her, to erase the bad memories that tainted her mind. "None of them ever came back, I never saw them again."

El was a long pause and it was not necessary to have a very high intellect to know that she was choking on his own words. She still wanted to talk, wanted to tell about her childhood in the lab, about the other experiences, but it was starting to get harder to continue. No one blamed her for this, no one in her right mind.

She had had a traumatizing childhood. While everyone was running and playing in the school playground, El was locked in a laboratory, frightened but apparently not totally alone. She had been with other children for a while, children who, just as she had not had the opportunity to enjoy their childhood, had not had the opportunity to become real children. It was sad, but that was it.

Mike opened his mouth to comfort her, to say that it was all part of her past, and then he was silent when a loud moan echoed through the house. The boy, Ten, as well as El had called, I was beginning to awaken.

Wide-eyed, the six teenagers watched the young man moan one last time and sit on the couch. He assessed the environment, the wide blue eyes wandering around the house detailing the living room of the Byers-Hopper house and then stopping over the small group. His blue eyes were wide as he got up off the couch and walked over to them, more specifically up to Max.

"Hurt me." He stated hoarsely pointing at Maxine. "The red-haired one hurt me."

Max let out a low, uncharacteristic shriek as the young man raised his right hand in her direction. Her eyes became dull, lifeless, filled with tears. She was pale, frightened by something.

"Please ... Billy, no ... Please do not!"

Mike did not know what to think. He knew about the relationship of mutual aggression between Billy and Max, but ... Billy was not there. He was a long way from Hawkins a long time ago, gone with a whore (Max's own words) whore. Why was she calling, begging her brother for mercy?

"Max" Lucas tried to approach her and the girl screamed loudly. "Come on, Maxie, Billy is not here, remember? It's just us."

"Billy!"

Looking as tortured as her friend, almost as if she was feeling the same pain and fear as she, El escaped from Mike's arms and approached the blue-eyed, concentrated-looking young man. Her posture was cautious, as if approaching a fierce animal.

"Ten?" El called attracting the gaze of the other. She forced a yellow smile to offer him. "Leave her, yes? She did not do anything to you ..."

"Eleven?"

"That's right, Ten, it's me." She tidied her hair nervously. "Leave my friend alone, please, Ten ..."

"Hurt me."

"She did not want to hurt you, Ten. I was just scared. Let my friend alone. Enough of that."

Ten shook his head in the negative, and it tore an exasperated sigh of part of El.

"Please Ten. You do not have to hurt her. She will apologize. It was just a mistake."

"Mistake?"

"Yes, a mistake. Remember Bren ..." She swallowed. "Remember that we were taught those words?"

"Papa taught."

"Ye ... Y-Yeah, he taught. Leave her alone, okay? She's my friend."

Visibly reluctant, the boy lowered his hand until she was glued to his body. Across the room, Max, who had whimpered in Lucas's arms, was silent. Her eyes, Mike noted, had returned to focus again. Whatever she had done with her had passed, he no longer had any power over the redhead.

Mike wanted El flinch, she returned to his side but mainly leave from near that weird guy. He did not want, under any circumstances, that his girlfriend be harmed by Ten just as Max had been. So he was alarmed when the stranger whose powers he still could not understand approached El and ... And he hugged her. The strange boy was hugging El.

Everyone reacted to the hug and this made the kid react too. He hid behind El, just as Mike had done earlier, and faced them furiously. Ten, the boy Max had knocked out, was trying to protect theirs.

"What the fuck does he think he's doing to my girlfriend?" Mike asked loudly, unable to hide his indignation. The other was acting as if they were a threat.

El rested a hand on Ten's shoulder.

"It's okay, Ten." She said reassuringly walking past him and back to Mike's side. "This is my family. Nobody here will hurt you."

The boy stared at them a little, still suspicious. He did not seem to believe that there was no risk to him; seemed to be ready to be attacked.

Mike did not want to compare him to El, but it was impossible not to do it, not to think that she could be there in his place. If El had not had the same luck, if she had not been able to escape from the lab, she would be occupying that place. She would not know how to behave or talk, she would wear nothing but a hospital gown.

"So" El prolonged the words after a long silence. She sat up, pulled Mike to sit next to her and waved for Ten to do the same. "You ... you were in the lab? You fled from there, Ten?"

"Flee the papa. No lab ... but the papa." He nodded fervently. "Nine too, but Papa ..."

"Did he get her?" El shook Mike's hand. "Did he get Eight, too?"

"Picked up Nine. Eight ran away ... Long time."

Wheeler noticed that the other man's eyes were not focused on the face of the person he had been talking to, but his body. He was, blatantly, studying every bit of El's body. He was damaging himself to others, the only thing that mattered to him was eating El with his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ten." El said sincerely. "I..."

"Help me," he pleaded, his blue eyes glowing pleadingly. "Help me get her out."

Mike did not like that request, did not like what would come from there. He knew El as he did not know anyone else, and he knew she would not refuse any request from someone who was in such a deplorable state. El was kind enough to sacrifice himself in someone's name.

Well, Mike was not like her. He did not have that kind of kindness running through his veins. In his family, kindness was almost extinct, and Mike was no exception to that. He was selfish to the point of not wanting to help this stranger who, with their hospital clothes smelled like bad news, much less wanted El did. More trouble, that was what Ten's presence meant. Mike did not want any more trouble in his and El's life.

"El, no ..."

"Please, help me get her out of there. Save her."

Ellie tied her hair in a messy bun, and though she did not answer right away, Mike knew what her decision was. She was going to help him, her decision was explicit in his frowning brow and in his erect posture. El had made up his mind, and judging by the way the others were quiet, no one else had noticed that.

For taking care of Holly since the girl was two and a half years old and also for being a very willing child, Mike knew how to make a perfect tantrum scene and that was exactly what he wanted to do at that moment. At the age of sixteen, Mike wanted to kick his foot, scream, and kick somebody out. Once again he was being selfish, but he wanted Ten to go back to the hole he had left.

"We'll talk about this later, okay? You can sleep here tonight."

Will hissed as if they had thrown a bucket of boiling water over his head.

"Sleep here? Are you going to let this guy sleep here?"

"I'll let him sleep here, yes, William, because I know what it's like not to have a roof, a safe place to sleep." El breath, your patience bordering on the end as the memories of his past came to light. "I know what he's feeling, fear, hunger ... I know and believe that you also know about it."

She lifted her chin, her lower lip slightly quivering.

"I'll talk to Hop, I'll talk to him and his mother Will, I'll convince them, there's no problem left for you." She swallowed hard. "I bow with the consequences of what will come."

El installed the stranger in the old quarter of Jonathan Byers who was unoccupied since he had gone to college. Will seemed inclined to complain about it, but then he fell silent with a death glare cast by Mike, Lucas, and Dustin (Max was quiet, absorbed in herself since Ten had made her ... It had become destabilized).

Mike had his reservations about Ten, they all had, but no one would talk about it that night. They were exhausted with body and mind, El more than the others.

"You'll be fine?" Mike asked, hugging El on the porch of the house. "I have to leave, but ... But if you want I can stay here with you. You just ask me to stay."

El stood on tiptoe and kissed him briefly and gently, his fingers tracing the freckles on Mike's face. She did not mind the fact that their friends were out there too, and even though they talked to each other, they were being spectators of that moment between them.

"I'd love for you to stay, but it's going to be a little ugly around here when Hop comes in and finds a stranger in his house. No, you'd better go home." Other Kiss. "You need to take care of your sister, Mike. She needs you."

"You have to, too."

"Your sister needs more." Another warm kiss. "I'll call you if anything happens." A third kiss. "I promise."

The dark-haired man's expression, worried before, grew even worse. The creases in his pale forehead became less evident. Of course he was not a hundred percent calm, far from it, actually, but that, that promise had softened the feeling that tightened on the boy's chest.

But (there was always a "but" in their story), as he pedaled home, still with El's promise whispering constantly in his ear, the ghost of fear and insecurity still pierced Mike Wheeler's heart like sharp arrows and merciless Something inside him buzzed madly, stating that things would go downhill from that moment on. The presence of that stranger who had allegedly fled the lab made suspicion grow in Mike.

His eyes, Mike thought, descending the small asphalt slope leading up the street from his house. They are as cold as Brenner's. It has the same color and the same coolness.

Yes, why Mike knew the color of Brenner's eyes. He'd only seen Brenner close up once, but he'd never forget the color of the bastard's eyes that had created him like an animal and tried to persuade her to return to the lab with him. Mike's mind would never erase the image of the cold, white-haired man with icy eyes.

Mike was putting his bike in the garage when he came upon a small sobbing figure curled up in the corner of the wall. Holly Wheeler's blond hair looked silver in the garage light and moonlight.

"Holl's, is not it a little late for you to be here in the garage?" He inquired, standing before her.

"Mike." The girl whimpered and ran into his arms. "Dad said ugly things to Mom. He yelled.”

He patted her gently on the back. Another fight between Karen and Ted Wheeler, nothing new to the point where Holly had witnessed it all. She had never witnessed the bad side of her parents, Mike had always been certified to leave her away from the verbal (and sometimes physical) warfare of the man and woman who were her parents.

"Oh, Holl's, I'm sorry I was not here for you, I'm really sorry."

"It was awful, Mickey. Daddy looked like a monster."

He moved through the garage, making sure everything was closed, and then headed for the basement.

"It's over, Holl's ..."

"Daddy's in the room, Mickey, I do not want to see him." The blonde buried her face in the older brother's shoulder. "I do not want to see him today. I want Nance, Mike."

Mike also wanted his sister, wanted Nancy to be there to help him and Holly with what was happening. But she was not there, Nancy was in New York with Jonathan Byers, in college and with jobs right now. Nancy had been lucky enough to leave Hawkins, she was no longer there to comfort the two younger brothers.

"What do you think of sleeping here with me in the basement, Holl's?" He played with his sister's golden braids. He wanted his bed, but he also wanted to keep Holly away from the reality of his parents' quarrels. "Do you want to camp down here?"

"Camping?" She sniffed. "I think I do, yes."

He did not let go of Holly as he entered the basement, he continued to hug her. Mike wondered how much longer he would endure living under the same roof as Ted and Karen Wheeler, living having watched their constant fights and, most importantly, comforting his sister.

"It's going to be all right, Holly." Mike murmured, buried his face in the blonde's braids. Nancy had done that to him once, before going to college, had said that everything would be all right. He wanted to believe that, those positive words, and he wanted Holly to believe it too. "It's going to be okay with us, Holl's, you'll see."

As he murmured that Mike's mind was fixed not only on what was happening in his house but on what was happening in El's house. Everything would be all right again, the lull would reign again. That was a must in the universe.

 


	4. When the universe becomes the avenger of those she has killed

**December 15, 1987**

 

"Why can’t I ride my bicycle to school just like Will, Hop? Why can’t I wear my skates?"

Hopper didn't look at her when he answered, kept his blue eyes fixed on the road and it hurt El enormously. He'd barely looked at her over breakfast, because in the car, on the way to school, would it be any different?

"Why, child, we don’t want to expose you to danger anymore. You've done enough sheltering that boy."

El stifled a weary sigh. If before she had doubts about Hopper's state of mind towards her (which she didn't, by the way), there was the confirmation. In the three years she lived with Hopper, every time he referred to her or any of his friends as a "child," it was why he was suppressing his anger, his unkind feelings, and especially his desire to shout out.

Ellie wanted him to yell at her; it was all she wanted most then. She didn't deserve him to suppress the anger she felt, no, she did not deserve his care after deliberately putting himself and his family in Martin Brenner's sights. It was difficult to admit, but that was the result of sheltering Ten. If before Brenner did not know about her (something of which they were not hundred percent sure), now he knew about her, where she lived ... He knew everything he needed to know to attack.

Aware that the silence would prevail for a long time, she searched the backpack and took the diary from within. It was something new, decorated by Will, tailor-made for her. It was something of her, Ellie Jane Hopper.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do.

She scribbled the same phrase over and over again, until the page was covered by her handwriting and the truth that governed her mind and her life. Not for the first time in his life, she did not know what to do, how to act. What could she do to help Ten and Nine? Yes, why turning away from an equal, to someone who was a laboratory brother and suffering, was out of the question.

"My powers, taking advantage of things as complete shit, I have not been in complete control of them. I can’t control my powers the way I did a few months ago."

El said this hoping that Hopper screamed and gave her a new chance to cry (all she wanted was to cry), to have a reason to put out all the pain and sorrow that kept inside her. Once again, Hopper did not give El what she wanted. He remained silent.

"Will not you say anything?" She put the diary in her backpack and poked her foster father. "You're not going to quarrel with me for lying? No scolding, really, Hopper?"

Hopper nodded at her, and from the rearview mirror El saw that he had a small smile on his face.

"Do you think I did not realize that, Jane? I was just waiting for you to come and talk to me, I was giving you privacy." He said in a surprisingly soothing voice. "I'm not going to punish you, Jane, I'm not going to give you that taste."

"No punishment? This is so stupid, Hopper! I do wrong things, I disobey your rules and you don’t stop me?"

"Watch your mouth, young lady, to Joyce stuff catches you talking about you-and is one month without seeing Wheeler. No, I will put you punishment. Conversation over."

Annoyed by this conversation and Hopper's clear refusal to punish her, El rolled her eyes and, uttering such a horrid curse that would make Joyce scold her for two hours, pressed her forehead against the glass of the car.

After ten minutes of silence and some abrupt deviations from what he believed to be holes in Hawkins' asphalt, Hopper parked the car in front of the school where El and the boys studied, the same school as Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve had studied.

"Stop acting like you've done something wrong, Ellie, as if you deserve to be punished, because you know you deserve none of it." Hopper said turning back to her, his blue eyes peering at her face. "You gave shelter to that boy, saved him from certain death and that was not wrong. You did what you had to do, what you did for you when you were in that position."

"I lied about my powers, I hid what was happening."

Hopper took off his seat belt and turned around to look at her in the backseat.

"You were scared, kid, I know what fear does to people." He consoled her and he felt even worse. Did she really deserve that comfort, after all she'd done? "Listen, I know you don’t like going to the lab, but maybe Dr. Owens can help us with what's going on with your powers. You know he's a good man."

And she knew that. Samuel Owens was Martin Brenner's successor in control of Hawkins's laboratory; he was an old gentleman with a good heart. Whenever he had met with him, El had felt his heart and the little cruelty that existed there. He had never hurt El, he was not even in the lab when El was still an experiment.

El trusted him, trusted enough to go to the lab and allow him to examine her. Only him, no one else. It was simple, if someone besides him came close to El, if someone in the lab, some of those damn ones who had ever injected stuff into her body, she would react the hard way.

"Okay." She sighed curling a brown curly thoughtfully. "Can we go later this afternoon? Can you pick me up after lunch?"

Hopper arched a brow, clearly surprised at the girl's haste.

"The sooner the better, Ellie. Steve come get you at lunch, me and Joyce'll be waiting for you in the lab." Hopper said hoping she would reply. "Do you want Will to go with us?

She shook her head in a desperate, agitated movement. It was not that she didn't want Will beside her, because she wanted to, but only she wanted to. What Will wanted was that it mattered and in recent times Will had been wanting to be a normal boy, to forget that one day the demogorgon had entered his life. El wasn't going to deny this to him, not when she herself wanted to forget certain things of her past.

Will and she had not been getting along too well lately. The nightmares, the return of Brenner, the lack of control of El were not helping in any way to improve their relationship. El feared that Will no longer wanted to be her brother, not when she was a constant reminder of everything that had happened in 1983; she was the cause of everything.

"He's your brother, Jane, I think he'll like to go and know about everything."

El shrugged.

"I don’t want to bother him, Hop. Let's leave him alone."

Jim didn't argue about El's refusal to take Will to their visit to the lab. He just shook his head at the girl's decision and, promising he'd be in the lab when she got there with Steve Harrington, left her at the door of the school. No kisses, no hugs; this was reserved for moments where words were not enough to express what they felt.

She already had a script of everything she would do that day, step by step, everything was planned in her mind. She would go to French class, then to social science, and then go to the cafeteria, not to lunch with Mike and the party, but to inform him that she was going out with Hopper and Joyce. _We're going to sort things out_ , she'd say. She would not be lying to them. Her plans included spending the entire day alone, avoiding anyone but Mike Wheeler.

El knew her plans were going downhill when she found Max and Mike waiting for her outside the classroom. She would have been glad to see both of them were it not for the expression they carried on their faces. While Mike looked tired, his hands hidden in his sweatpants pocket, Max looked furious. The redhead didn't flaunt her usual smile, her face blushing with something that was not a treat or an embarrassment; she was angry, resentful.

More trouble, El thought as she approached the two. What novelty.

"Hey, what are you ..." El started to say and was soon interrupted by Max.

"You let that freak sleep in your house? Are you going to let him stay with you?" The redhead roared, furious.

El blinked, perplexed.

"Excuse me, but ... Freak? Who's the freak?"

"That stupid one who's in your house! That damn freak!"

"He's my brother, Max. I grew up with him ... Well, I lived with him for a long time." She shook her head, not wanting to remember what she had lived in the lab beside Ten and the others. "I couldn't just let him out. That would be inhuman."

"Inhuman was what he did to me." Max snapped, ignoring the way Mike looked at her. "He ... What the hell did that monster do to me?"

Max was beside herself, this was clear from the way her hair was messy and her voice loud. The problem with this lack of control was that she was attracting attention and all they needed least was attention.

"Maxie, please ..."

"What did that freak do to me?" Max repeated the question impatiently.

"He showed you your worst fear, that which is trapped within your soul." El said before she could stop herself. "He showed you something that paralyzed you at the moment, a defense. He's certainly going to apologize to you when ..."

"When what? When I'm in your house?" Max laughed falsely, something El had only seen his friend do when she was in the presence of Lizbeth Evans and her fellow cheerleaders. "I'm sorry, Ellie, you know how I love you, but I'm not going to your house while that freak is there. I don’t ever want to look at that freak again."

And then, after saying all that, after uttering the word "freak" so often and with such unbridled hatred, after laughing wickedly as El was one of his worst enemies, Max leaned over and kissed her cheek chestnut. She acted as if she had not just hurt her best friend's heart, as if her words had not been honed enough to cross the armor the other had built for herself.

Trying not to sound shaken by her friend's words and reactions, El turned to Mike. The boy stared at her with his sympathetic dark eyes, his arms hanging loosely on his side. Thank God he wasn't angry. It was just her Mike, the genius boy who always tried his hardest to make her smile.

"Max is just upset, El." Mike comforted her by wrapping his arms around her. "Don’t care about that, she's just being sulky."

She nodded briefly before throwing the backpack on the floor and snuggling into his arms. Mike had a warm hug, the best hug ever.

"Is Hopper foaming with rage?"

"No, not even close. He said I did the right thing." She inhaled his scent. "Hop said you'd help me."

Mike didn't answer, he just squeezed her body even harder against him. El was grateful for the gesture, all she needed was a hug, his affection. She would have stayed there longer (she wanted to stay with him forever), but that was not possible, and the sound of the bell announcing the start of classes was definite proof of that.

The two of them, though under the shrill sound of the bell and under the eyes of El's colleagues, were reluctant to part.

"I'll see you at lunch?" She shook her head and saw Mike's freckled face fall. "Why? Look, what Max said was a lot of shit of a frightened person. She didn't mean it, El."

Max wanted to say that, El knew it, just as she knew the redhead would follow her words. For a long time Maxine wouldn't be seen at Jim and Joyce's, but she would not tell Mike. He didn't have to worry about that.

"I'm going to see Dr. Owens, Mike, maybe he'll know what's going on with me." She kissed his lips quickly. "I can’t stand pretending that nothing is happening, not anymore."

El joined backpack that had thrown to the ground and already had one foot inside the room when Mike grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him. His eyes were warm as ever, full of a kindness she still did not believe she deserved.

Gently (when Mike was not kind to her?), He pressed his lips to hers. It was nothing fancy, nothing of the kind that made people around feel embarrassed, and she had to admit it was not the hottest kiss the two of them had ever exchanged. There was nothing warm about that kiss, the only thing that existed was Mike's tenderness and zeal, the clear message he wanted to leave for her. It's going to be okay, I'll be on your side.

Trying to reassure him and also trying to convey the same thing to him, El took Mike's hands against hers and caressed them carefully. She wasn't very good at reassuring people, especially if the person in question was Mike. It was he who reassured her, he was the owner of the words that freed the uncertainty of their future. She was just ... Her. The girl who now had words, who knew how to use them, but who feared to use them erroneously.

"Miss Hopper and Mr. Wheeler." A woman's voice cleared her throat. "Do I need to remind both of us that we're at school?"

El pulled away from Mike and turned to the French teacher. Jannel Blanche stared at them, her dark brows arched.

"Excuse me, Miss Blanche."

The woman ignored El's excuses and turned to Mike. Jannel Blanché detested the students who had chosen a class other than French, she did nothing to hide her resentment and aversion.

"Go to your class, Mr. Wheeler, and you, Miss Hopper, enter the class."

El didn't wait to see Mike stumbling down the hallway, trying to get away from the French class as fast as he could, walked into the classroom and arched an eyebrow at what she found.

It was not what, but who. Sitting in her table next to hers, the table that had been empty since the beginning of the school year, was a dangerous-looking blonde girl. Carefully painted blue eyes with eyeliner and dark shadow, red lips drawn in a grimace as she played with the metal bracelets that covered her right wrist. El had never seen her in the city, it was something as sure as the bad feeling that had to set eyes on the girl. That blond girl was trouble.

The girl must have felt as if they were looking at her, that El was staring at her, since she looked up from her metal bracelets and smiled at her. It was a friendly smile, but it made a shiver run down El's spine. A bad feeling.

"Hello, new classmate!" The girl said getting up from the chair and embracing El. "It's vety nice to meet you, pretty. My name is Nissa Puckett and I am new in town."

El pulled away from the girl, uncomfortable. Everyone in the room was staring at the scene with interest.

"Welcome"? El tried to smile at Nyssa. "I, uh, my name is ..."

"Sophie Eileen." Nissa laughed casually. "They told me your name. It's a beautiful name."

El sat down and the girl did the same.

"This is not my name anymore. My name is Jane Hopper." She hid a brown wick behind her ear, uncomfortable with the way the girl leaned over and looked at her. "Call me Jane."

"Jane is also a beautiful name. All names you have are so beautiful like that? By the way, how many names do you have?"

El wanted it, that the interest of Nyssa diminish the extent that their questions were answered ("You are the daughter of Sheriff, have a boyfriend, has brothers, has left Hawkins?"), But it did not. Nissa clung to her, and even at the end of her French class, she refused to leave her side.

Just when El wanted to be alone, creating courage for what she would have to face in Hawkins's laboratory, that girl would come. El had nothing against her, but she also had absolutely nothing in favor. The girl, Nissa, was agitated and extremely invasive; she acted as if they had been friends for a long time. El was not comfortable with it, with the closeness the girl was forcing between them.

"Can I have lunch with you? You know, I don’t know anyone, and you really did seem to be a nice person." The girl asked at the end of the class two classes of French and one of domestic economy.

Almost immediately the chestnut felt guilty. There she was, all grumpy, while the girl just wanted to have someone to talk to. Ellie knew very well what it was to be the new girl in Hawkins, she had suffered it when she was still Sophie Eileen.

She led Nissa into the school cafeteria and managed to force a smile to offer to her friends while introducing her and informing them that she would stay with them. As she spoke, El noticed that Mike and Lucas were the only ones paying attention to her. Max, her cheeks flushed, stared at her plate. Will avoided looking directly at her, pretending to talk to Myra, the blonde who was dating. Dustin was drooling over Nissa, not bothering to disguise his interest.

"Are not you going to sit down, Jane?" Nissa questioned afterward that El kissed Mike's lips briefly. "Are not you going to have lunch?"

This caught Will and Max's attention. Both, in complete and complete synchrony, lifted their heads to see El shaking her head and steadying the backpack.

"I'm not going, Nissa. I have to leave early today, my father has to sort things out with me." She clutched Mike's hair affectionately. "I have to go, guys, see you later." She looked at Max. "See you tomorrow, Maxine."

El really didn't mean to sound so dry, so resentful, but as she walked away she knew that was what had happened. And it was true, it was what she was feeling. To say that she hadn't been bored would be a lie, of course she was annoyed at Max. The redhead had called Ten a freak and it had affected her. El and Ten had been raised in the same way, had powers, and if Dustin, Lucas, and Mike had beaten her the night they had found her in the woods, she would certainly have the same reaction as Ten had.

After growing up in such a hostile environment, for El the best defense was the attack. Apparently Ten thought the same thing. No one could blame him, and if Max was thinking, she would think so too. Max, more than anyone else, knew what it was to attack to defend himself; Billy had taught her that.

"Ellie!"

She stopped walking and turned to Will.

"Heey, Will" She forced a smile to offer his brother. "How was your day?"

Will, whose cheeks were blushing with his effort, leaned forward and put both hands on the covers. He was as athletic as Mike.

"Where are you going? Are you killing class? You know Mom would hate to know you're ..."

Feeling more than outraged, El interrupted his brother:

"I'm going to see Dr. Owens. Hopper and mama ... Hopper and your mother will be with me." She tried not to sound exasperated. Tried. "I need to figure out what's going on with me."

Will nodded, kissed her cheek, and was gone. That disappointed El. After three years of living together, after they had officially become brothers, she really expected a little more interest from him. Consideration was the word to define what she hoped for.

 _He wants to have a normal life, remember?_ A small voice whispered in her ear. _He deserves a normal life._

 _I also deserve to have a normal life,_ she replied to the little voice. I really deserve it.

 _You sure about that ?_ , the voice countered dripping evil. _You killed people, people who in those circumstances were not innocent, but who had families. You took the lives of fathers and mothers, little psycho._

El stopped. She had no answer to that; she could not even deny that it was true. She had killed people, had blood staining her hands forever. She was guilty.

Perhaps what was happening to her (the uncontrolled powers, the tide of chance that had stuck to her since Brenner rose from the dead, fights with Will, the sorrow that consumed her slowly) was a way of the universe to avenge the soul of those she had killed.


	5. Teenage hormones under the skin

 

**December 15, 1987**

 

It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, El thought, watching with shrewd eyes Sam Owens reading an endless sequence of roles. Exams; all the examinations she had done that day, and also the days when she was just a number. In Owens's hands was all El's medical life, everything that had ever happened to her.

If El had learned one thing when it was still a mere laboratory experience, it was that being impatient didn't produce good results. Being impatient wouldn't get her anywhere, except for the arms of trouble and more trouble. Apparently this learning wasn't passed on to those who grew up as normal children, and seeing the way Steve Harrington moved restlessly and chewed his nails watching Dr. Owens, she was more and more sure of that.

"Steve," Joyce scolded softly, the same voice he used to suppress Will, El, and Jonathan when they did something wrong. "Mind if you keep quiet? You're making me nervous."

Seemingly outraged at the little woman's request, Steve stopped biting his nails and stared at El with his best look of "Can you believe in this woman?" He let out a little giggle.

"Seriously, Stevie, you need to calm down. It's not like you're waiting to know if you have cancer or not." She kicked the brunette's leg. "Relax, man, I should be freaking out and I'm not, so you don’t have to either."

Steve Harrington was one of El's favorite people, and that opinion had nothing to do with the fact that he treated her like she was the queen of Hawkins (he was the king, by the way). Eleven didn't love him because he filled her with pampering and words that made her self-esteem at the top of the world; she loved him for being who he was.

If anyone in Hawkins was asked who Steve Harrington was, the answer would be immediate: a bad boy who, after graduating and being dismissed by Nancy Wheeler, had decided to be a cop. The people of Hawkins called him Steve Stupid Harrington. People were stupid because they did not realize how big he was. Steve wasn't just an old bad boy, a police officer whose hair was always tidy and being the ex-boyfriend of Nancy Wheeler; he was more than that. Companion and protector would be two good words to define it. Hopper would add annoying clown to this short list.

"Harrington" Hopper snarled suddenly, startling everyone, including poor Dr. Owens. "If you don’t keep quiet, I swear I'll suspend you from the corporation for a week."

It made Steve swallow, murmur a few words of indignation, and then shut up. El laughed softly and also fell silent. It was not Hopper's look that made her shut up, but rather the restless movement of Sam Owens. Dr. Owens was a calm man, who rarely worried, and if he was doing it, that did not mean a good thing.

Lately nothing meant a good thing. Nothing.

"And then," Steve inquired before Hopper and Joyce had the chance to do so, something that irritated both of them. "What does she have?"

Owens stared at Joyce and Hopper.

"Why is he here?" He clutched the papers nervously. El had never seen Dr. Owens so nervous and agitated. "He's reliable?"

Deciding it was better to intervene before driving out of Steve's office, El coughed attracting Dr. Owens's attention to itself.

"Steve is trustworthy, Doctor. He fought the demogorgon, he knows about everything that happened." She said firmly. Being firm and never hesitating was essential when you were in the lab. "He never said anything and it will continue like this. I trust him."

Dr. Owens nodded, gray eyes filled with concern and hesitation avoiding El's face. Another sign that something was wrong. Sam Owens never avoided looking directly into someone's eyes, especially when it came to her.

"Yours exams, Jane, indicate that there is nothing wrong with you. I mean, except yours, uh, hormones. They are a bit changed, very high, and perhaps this influence in yours abilities."

El gently flushed, embarrassed. Hormones, her hormones were leaving her uncontrolled. But looking at Dr. Owens and the way his hesitation continued, she knew the problem wasn't just about that. Being a hormone teenager wasn't the only problem.

Joyce and Hopper also knew that, so much they knew that they urged Owens to continue. They were both praising their roles as El's father and mother.

"I noticed your abilities has shown that they are ... Slightly more developed. You are growing and your powers are also growing." Owens ruffled the white wires that covered his head. "I think maybe you're not sure how to handle and control your powers now that they're bigger. You're used to something small and now you have to deal with something like twenty times greater."

Finally, for the first time since she entered the office, Owens looked El. He almost looked sorry for her.

"Dear, did you have headaches?"

"Constant headaches... My nose comes bleeding more and more, even when I'm not using my powers."

Owens nodded sympathetically. He wasn't surprised by that revelation, it was as if he had already expected that.

"I can help you deal with it, Jane, but I don’t think you'll like the idea I have in my mind." Owens cleared his throat. "You need to train, use your powers and get used to them again." El crossed her legs, patient. "Another thing you'll need ... I'll prescribe some medicine for you to ease the pain you feel."

Dr. Owens's recommendations were basic, specific, and quite obvious, to speak the truth. El was not surprised at all by this, for that alone, she remained impassive most of the time.

The first recommendation was that she would have to suppress excessive emotions to the utmost. She shouldn't allow herself to be carried away by heated feelings. Nothing to surrender completely to a sensation. She would have to restrain all kinds of feelings until she was fully in control of herself. Nothing to go by ("nothing to do inappropriate things with your boyfriend, Jane" The doctor had commented with an indiscreet wink making her blush to the root of the hair ").

The second recommendation was the most basic of all. El would need to train, learn to use her powers again and get used to them. This would all need to be done away from looks and likely victims if she lost control altogether. Having a training wasn't a problem. It would be extremely interesting to learn about herself and her powers.

The third recommendation made the blood chill in El's veins, causing her face to completely lose its color. Medications, she would have to take some medications so that headaches and nose bleeds would stop. Ellie hated medicine, especially if their origin was Hawkins's laboratory. She trusted Dr. Owens, but this wasn't the case with the other scientists in the laboratory.

Under the protests and visible discomfort of El, Owens rummaged through a drawer and entered three pots of medicine. She didn't bother saying anything else after that, preferred to be silent even as Hopper asked her and Steve to go up front because he and Joyce had affairs to deal with Dr. Owens. El knew they would talk about Brenner, about his return to life, and that gave her one more reason to get out of there.

The only thing El wanted to know about Brenner was that he was dead, buried more than four feet off the ground. He must have been dead. Why had not the demogorgon killed him? The damn demogorgon had taken the life of Nancy Wheeler's best friend, but it had not been able to kill Brenner. Total shit.

El was silent, mentally muttering his hatred for Brenner until it is two blocks from home (or so she believed. It was difficult to know when it lived almost in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees) when Steve no longer supported it. He was energetic, as agitated and full of energy as Dustin.

"So ..." He extended the last syllable of the word, the voice full of the charm he used to conquer Hawkins's girls. Steve was still a seducer. "What did the sheriff and your mother have to talk to that little doctor?"

"Brenner. He is alive, if Hop hasn't  yet told you. The stupid bastard survived the Demogorgon." She pressed her forehead against the glass of the car. "Steve, do you think I'll be able to ... Control what's going on?"

Steve, who had listened to everything El told Sam Owens, nodded in a positive nod.

"Of course you will, little star." He smiled charmingly. "I can help you whenever you want.I will be your official coach.Anyway, I'll give you some ... with Eggos and chocolate pudding."

"So sweet." El cried out, dreamy. No matter the age, she would always be delighted with the offer of Eggos and chocolate pudding. "You're definitely hired, Steve Harrington."

They both laughed. Being with Steve was simple. He was simple, friendly, funny and, most importantly, he hadn't allowed the ghost of the demogorgon to transform his life.

The conversation flowed naturally from that bridge forward, that is, until Steve parked in front of the house and she found a desolate Mike sitting on the entry steps. El had barely set foot out of the car when he took she in a sudden crushing embrace of bones.

Mike smelled of fabric softener, masculine scent and a slight touch of childish scent (courtesy of Holly Wheeler). With the mess that was her powers, El more than ever could feel the energy and the things he felt. Disturbed, worried, lost ... Mike was as confused as she was, but there he was, ready to console her.

This was her boyfriend, the selfless boy who had saved her from the rain during the night. Mike was suffering from what was happening at his house, but still, he was there with her. El didn't know what she had done to deserve it, not after everything she had done.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you, El? They did something you didn't like?" Mike asked, moving away and taking her face in his hands to study her. "What happened? What did they say, El?"

"If you let the girl talk, stupid, you'll know what happened." Steve shook his head at him in exasperation. "El, I'm going in. Your father asked me to stay here while he and your mother don’t come in. Don’t wait out here and know that I'm watching. No joke with my girl, Wheeler. Keep your hands away from certain areas of my girl body. "

El laughed softly at Mike's outraged expression when Steve called her "my girl" and hugged him again. Mike didn't hesitate to snuggle in again, his arms warm and ever so welcoming. She wanted to stay there forever, wrapped in those arms that gave her both comfort and confidence.

"It worked out, Mike. Dr. Owens prescribed me some medicine, some medical advice, and that's it, I did not stay there for long." She murmured against his sweatshirt. "I'm fine. I'll change clothes and tell you everything, okay? It's fast."

Mike squeezed her a little against him, reluctant to anything.

"Sorry, El, but you can’t change your clothes."

The girl left her boyfriend's arms and stared up at him with arched eyebrows.

"Why?" She took a few steps back so that she could see the boyfriend's face paling, the freckles becoming headlights in their paper pallor. "Mike, did anything happen while I was gone?"

She watched Mike's face twist in a grimace of disgust, as if he didn't feel very comfortable speaking. El immediately crossed his arms and adopted for themselves the posture of someone who clearly demanded answers, a stance that Hopper had used many times with her.

"Maybe Will got stuck with Ten, and maybe Ten locked himself in your room after all that happened." He scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe he hasn't get out of the room since all this happened. But, you know, maybe."

Something hot bubbled inside her body. Concern. She was worried about both Ten and Will. Her two brothers were frightened; Ten, the lab brother, was scared of ... Well, with everything, and Will was ... Will was strange about something. The point was they were both in trouble, and stubborn as it might be, she was going to help them.

 

°°°

 

El tapped her fist three times against the bedroom door feeling stranger than ever. That was her room, she shouldn't be knocking on the door, asking to come in, not when it was her right to be in there.

She drew air into her lungs at once, and, determined to forget this stupid thought (Ten wasn't to blame for being frightened), knocked again on the door. No answer. It was as if Ten was not inside.

"Ten" El sighed. "Please open the door to the bedroom, I want to come in, I want to talk to you, we have to do it, remember, if we don’t talk I will not be able to help you with ... What's happening with Nine."

Behind her, flanked by Mike, Lucas and Dustin, Will made a clearly mocking little noise. Will didn't like Ten and had made that clear. El didn't deign to look at him, was focused on persuading Ten.

The door to the room opened slightly, enough for Ten's large blue eyes to assess her and the food she carried in her arms. Food was the weak point of those who had lived in the hands of Martin Brenner.

"Eleven" Ten opened the door wide enough for El and the boys to enter the room. "Your room ... It's colorful."

El smiled kindly.

"It was Will who painted, he's an artist, you know, he does these pretty things when he's not being a complete idiot." She handed the food to Ten. "Fresh food. Well, not so fresh in fact is canned, but it is certainly better than anything you've tasted in your life. You will love it, Ten."

Eyes wide, slightly shocked, El and the boys watched Ten devour all the food they had gotten for him. It was sad to admit, but the boy looked like an animal and the clothes he wore ... Well, things didn't get much better. Maybe one of the boys could loan him clothes, El thought as he remembered how uncomfortable it was to keep those clothes on.

El knew how it worked, the manual of it all, knew the step by step to gain the trust of someone who had just escaped a laboratory and how he should act. She introduced the boys to Ten and also commented a bit on Max, and then, finally, did the essential: asked how he had fled the lab, how did he know about her and what had happened?

Nobody interrupted or Ten laughed as he recounted his story. Everyone was silent as he told how he had spent the last few years locked in Brenner, running from one place to another, running away from something he and Nine didn't understand. He and Nine had found a way to escape a week ago and would have done it successfully if Brenner had not caught them in the act. Ten still managed to escape but Nine ... Brenner captured her.

"I want your help," Ten repeated the same words from the previous night, this time the phrase a little more developed. "I want Nine back."

El looked at her own hands, for the tattoo engraved on her wrist. She had to help him, she had to help him. It was a chance to repay all the kindness Mike and the boys had given her. But ... How could she help him by being so out of control?

"Your powers aren't out of control, El?" Dustin asked. "You didn't say you had no control over anything?"

She nodded sheepishly. It was bad to hear those words coming out of Dustin's mouth, making it even more true.

"I ... I'm learning to control myself. Dr. Owens will help me with what's going on." Thought of the medicine bottles she kept inside her backpack. "But I'll be able to help you soon."

"When?"

"Before Christmas? I don’t know, I just know I'll help you." She joked nervously with a stubborn grimace of the jeans she wore. "I'm going to help you."

"As if I would leave you alone. As if we were to do that." Mike snorted. "We're going to help. All of us, without any exception."

A new growl coming from Will reverberated through the room and it angered El enormously. Why was he acting that way? If he didn't want to help it wouldn't help. She didn't have to grumble around the corners of the house.

Don’t fret, Dr. Owens's voice echoed through her head. Avoid strong emotions. El stopped breathing for a few seconds, long enough for her irritation fade into a lot of nothing. She couldn't get angry, if she did, she would be losing everything.

"You remember where you were, Ten?" Lucas, who seemed to be moving without Max's presence, tried. "A reference point, something that can help us find your ... Another sister?"

"Trees?"

Dustin and Will rolled their eyes.

"Dude, no offense, but it doesn't help much. Hawkins is the city of trees. The place is surrounded by trees." Dustin commented with a bit of pity. His tone implied that he was speaking to a mentally retarded man. "Did you see anything? A sign? What was the place like?"

"Two houses, one big and small, one near and far, many rooms, metal walls, machines." Ten said, oblivious to the tone used with him. "Everything falling apart."

"Are there abandoned sheds in Hawkins?" El asked and the four boys denied it.

"No. I think the last one was destroyed about two years ago, something about the company being thrown into the lake of passionate toxic waste." Mike frowned. "Things harmful to the health and future of the planet."

"What kind?" Dustin asked. "They were throwing cesium in the river? Barium or ..."

"I don’t know, Dustin." Mike shrugged, frowning. "Why should I know?"

"Because you're the know all of the group, the leader of the confusions." Dustin replied as if this was obvious. "Dude, you're the paladin, remember?"

"Yes, Mike, you are the paladin." Lucas agreed, and Will followed. "There ought to know everything."

"Does that mean we're necessarily obtuse?" Will asked no one in particular, his green eyes wide with shocking innocence.

This made the four boys adhered fervent discussion (and common) that normally would have been busy El appease. This time she didn't, she was so lost in thought that she didn't bother to blink or divert when Dustin threatened to hit Lucas in the face.

El's brown eyes were fixed on a not-so-recent memory in a shed that was strategically distant and at the same time close to Hawkins. El had left Hawkins many times to visit Jacob in Manhattan and downtown New York, or to visit her mother, and on one of his visits to her catatonic mother and his unfriendly aunt, El had seen the abandoned shed. It was close to Becky Ives's house, close enough for Brenner to have the biological family of El under his evil eyes.

El clenched her fists, a horrible certainty inside her. Ten didn't need to confirm it for her, no one needed to confirm anything. Brenner was in the damn shed near the Ives' house, he and Nine were there, close enough to something that could shake her emotional frame, close enough to Hawkins and El, close enough to know about Hawkins.

The only thing Brenner wasn't enough was dead, but if he dared to touch ... In any person she loved, she would make sure of it herself. The universe and its punishments that damn it. El was willing to get her hands dirty with blood to protect those she loved, no matter what punishment the universe might give her after that.


	6. Dreaming about an unpleasant future

December 15, 1987

 

He had never seen El so agitated. With his brown curls jumping behind him like a set of well-orchestrated springs, he paced back and forth without stopping to breathe. His cheeks were flushed, but this time it was not for shame.

For some reason that Mike or any of the other understood, El called Becky Ives. Mike knew how El and Becky didn’t get along, he had witnessed it many times, and if she was calling her aunt it was because something was not right. Well, with the return of Brenner and the emergence of Ten, of course things were not good, but the connection that El was for Aunt indicated that things were going from bad to worse.

Call Becky didn’t yield good fruit, only made El is irritated. The rest of the night passed like a blur, all spinning around Ten. El ultimately calmed down (she mumbled something about not being able to surrender to stressful feelings) and only this made Mike go home. Mike would never get away from her if he was not calm enough. Never.

And that led him here, lying in bed, completely in the dark, accompanied by the little blond invader and sleeper he had for his sister. Of course the lack of privacy should bother him, but at the end of the day he would just take the strict care of getting out of the already dressed bath and not leaving anything embarrassing lying on the floor that was okay.

Little by little the ticking of the cuckoo clock his mother had placed in the hallway of the house drove him to the dream world. Long ago Mike had no nightmares (about three years), but tonight would be different. Nightmares would come to hell with his life in the coming months, nightmares he didn’t even think were his.

_How did Mike know that this was not his nightmare? Well ... He didn’t know it, but the feeling of strangeness and of being only a spectator and not the main protagonist of the nightmare indicated this to him._

_The place was a metal room, completely devoid of decoration. Everything was made of metal, including the small cabin that was in the center of the place. The box was long and narrow, no window or opening that allowed the daylight to enter, and looking at it from a distance, it was easy to see that there was enough room for one person._

_A large metal coffin, standing, just waiting for someone to occupy it._

_Frightening Mike to death, the big coffin began to make body-fight noises. It was as if there was someone trapped inside, struggling to get out and breathe. Hearing a loud growl, Mike noted that the possibility of someone actually being trapped inside the coffin was not utterly absurd and that with each passing minute it became more and more incontestable.The truth, that someone was trapped inside the narrow metal box, struck at Mike when a loud female lament echoed through the room. The crying voice sounded painfully familiar._

_"Let me out! Please, I can’t breathe ..." El's voice cried in despair. "I want to get out of this shit! Let me out!"_

_Even knowing how the dreams in which El appeared to him work, even knowing that he could do nothing but watch and suffer, Mike ran to the metal box and looked for a breach, a way out so that he could free El. Anything._

_El continued taking turns between cursing, pleading and crying. To say it was a torture would be pure euphemism. It was beyond torture and any kind of sadism._

_"I'm going to die here, please ... Let me out," she pleaded weakly and Mike immediately saw her: her tear-stained face pressed against the door, her body trembling._

_El's claustrophobia had only been confirmed when the two of them were fourteen, during a joke, when some older girls confined her in the janitor's closet. The result of the joke was a tearful El practically fainted in the infirmary. She had been crying for two days in a row, locked in the bedroom, unable to control herself or to look at someone._

_The desperate cry of El, the tears she had shed during those two days were the same ones that he heard at that time. She was having a seizure._

_"I ... I can’t breathe ..." El choked up. Punches began to be cast against the metal. She was still struggling to get away. "I can’t ... No ..."_

_A door on the side of the room opened and Martin Brenner passed it. He was still the same white-haired bastard Mike remembered. The only difference that existed in the Brenner that crossed the room and Brenner that Mike had known at school was the ugly scar that now stained his face. The scar was formed by three joint lines, as if it had been made by someone's hand._

_Mike really hoped that scar was Demogorgon's work. At least this he must have done._

_Brenner paused in front of the metal box, tugged at a small panel Mike had not seen before, and made the box open. El was there, standing, standing. She wore a thin, white undershirt, faded, blood-soaked jeans, bare feet. Her body trembled completely, almost in a state of convulsion. It was not the little bald Eleven Mike had known in the woods; it was El's, indeed thinner and sadder, the lifeless brown curls hovering over her shoulders, but it was still her._

_"Eleven" Brenner lifted a hand to stroke El's face and she immediately stumbled back, away from him._

_El gasped one last time. The brown eyes lost their focus and she fell forward, her hands cushioning the impact against the ground. She was not giving up._

_"You disobeyed me, Eleven, and these are the consequences of your disobedience." Brenner said, and there was something in his voice, a certainty and a truth that induced the person to believe him strongly. It was a kind of brainwashing. "I do not like being disobeyed, Eleven, and I do not think that will ever happen again, will it?"_

_El's arms finally lost strength and she collapsed, completely exhausted. She didn’t answer Brenner and something told Mike that she would not respond; her stubbornness was sometimes impressive._

_"Eleven, we both know you can talk, live talking to those stupid Hawkins boys." Brenner insisted. "Answer me or you'll go back inside the box."_

_Her breathing became more agitated, and Mike knew it meant she was losing control. Being confined to a tight place, having less than five minutes of fresh air and being thrown in a tight one was again messing with her._

_"You will answer me, Eleven?"_

_Mike wanted to get El in his arms and run away from that place, he wanted to punch Brenner's face until the scar left by the Demogorgon was the least of his problems, he wanted ... He wanted that damn left El alone._

_He wanted many things, but he could not do any of them. This was not his realm. It was just a nightmare he could only watch with bound hands, without interfering._

_El didn’t respond and it annoyed Brenner that without a word he took her by the arm and tugged her back into the metal box. She didn’t fight or curse as Mike hoped she would; the only reaction Brenner could get out of her was a loud, painful grunt followed by an endless stream of tears._

_The door closed and El was back inside the metal box, trapped. Her sobs grew louder and louder, but there was no hint of a fight or what she would be talking about soon. Apparently she could only cry._

Mike woke up panting and horrified. His horror would have lasted longer had it not been for the loud whimpering echoing through the room. Stunned, she looked away to see if Holly was crying and ready to comfort her. It was not Holly. The blonde still slept calmly beside him, her little finger inside her mouth.

It was not Holly who was crying, it was not her ... But then who was it?

He got out of bed and ran to Supercom when a new cry, followed by the unmistakable noise of static, made itself heard again. A series of painful sobs were in action when Mike finally found the device, tossed into a corner of the room.

"El?" Mike tried grabbing the device with unrelenting force. "El, are you?"

New sobs and he knows it's her before she whimpers a shaky, hoarse "yes."

"Mike." She sobbed loudly and all Mike wanted was to be there to comfort her. "Papa ..."

"It was just a nightmare, El. It was not real. That son of a bitch will never touch you again."

"It was not a dream. It was, somehow real." She answered hoarsely, in panic. There was a noise in the background, as if something had just exploded. "It was real. It's going to be real."

Mike knew what she was talking about. The nightmare (if the nightmare he had had was the same as hers) didn’t look like that. It was like a glimpse of the future, of what would happen. The vivid sense of truth flooding the nightmare had made that quite clear.

"Come on, El, none of this will happen. You know we will not let him get near you." He walked to the bedroom window and looked at the typical Hawkins landscape. Nothing different, the same tiresome placidity as always. "El, you need to believe me, you need to calm down."

"I can’t ... I can’t calm down, I can’t breathe right, I can’t stop crying or make things in my room stop blasting and floating." She confided, the sadness that trickled down her voice immediately infecting Mike and making him feel like the worst person in the world. El was suffering and he could not do anything. "I can’t breathe right ..."

That got his attention. Not being able to breathe was one of several reactions El had when he was in the middle of one of his claustrophobic attacks or when he was at the beginning of an anxiety attack. Usually Mike knew how to help her control herself, but this time it was different; he had never done anything like this without being near her, without touching her or kissing her, Mike had never done it through his Supercom.

Mike's thoughts faded as the unmistakable sound of something breaking echoed through Supercom. The desperation of El was worsening the situation of her powers.

"The lamp exploded" She lamented loud, loud enough to wake Holly. "It cost a black note since a friend of Hopper sent him from New York ... Hopper will be so angry."

"El, Hopper will not be angry with you. Just breathe okay? Inside and out, as we train." Mike muttered, his mouth pressed against Supercom's mouthpiece. "Inside and out, do not stop doing that. Remember that time you saved me from dying on the cliff?"

What Mike was trying to do was distract her, pulling him away from the anguish she felt at random facts that probably didn’t interest her.

"N-no ... I-I remember, but it seems confusing ..."

"All right, El, you do not have to be nervous, it's all right, inside and out, remember, focus on it, inside and out." Mike wandered around the basement like a mummy just run away from the grave. "I was in a panic, El, but you came and saved me. You saved me." I jumped to save Dustin from something that would probably happen one way or another and you came to save me from death.

"You were stupid, Mike."

"I'd rather think you were being brave, Honey." Mike admitted gladly to realize that El's voice was no longer shaking. "But I had to save my best friend, one was already gone, the other was mad at me and you were lost in the woods, I just could not lose anybody else. Anything for a friend, remember that?"

"That was sweet. Extremely cute."

El's breathing grew quieter, less desperate, but Mike didn’t let her. Mike didn’t turn off the Supercom or went back to the room, he remained locked in the basement, listening to his girlfriend's calm breathing. She had fallen asleep at some point, could have another nightmare and Mike would be there for her.

Ever.

* * *

 

December 16, 1987

The next morning, when Mike simply threw his bike into the bike rack and ran into the school, he didn’t find El along with his friends just like they used to do every morning before school. She was not with them. Mike didn’t panic (not yet) and was not surprised when he found her curled up in the chairs in the auditorium of the music room. She loved that place, it was her world.

El used to say that Will was the artist of the family, but Mike disagreed with her. Will was not the only artist in her family; she and Jonathan were also two artists, especially her. Even without proper training, the long years of lessons that a pianist needed to have, El played the piano as if they had taught it since it came out of the duds. She was too modest to talk about her talents.

But Mike knew about the grandiosity of her talents on the piano and didn’t tire of exalting them. He had within himself the full certainty that El's talent for piano would lead her to Juilliard, who would one day cease to be just a former fugitive of scientists, who would cease to be just the Sheriff's adopted daughter to be a great in the eyes of the world. With or without his powers, El had been born to be great.

As he approached her Mike noticed how small and helpless El looked there, curled up on that chair, hidden in the music room of the funds. She looked sad, with each second that passed, she gave the impression that she wanted to disappear into his coat.

"Hey." He threw the backpack on the floor and took the seat next to hers. "What are you doing here?"

El lifted the black walkman to show him, a shy smile on his lips.

"I want to stay a little away from crowds. Besides, Jonathan made a new mixtape for me." She snuggled close to him. "Do you want to listen too?"

Not surprising the apathetic reaction that his girlfriend sketched, Mike accepted the headset she offered. He knew how to wait and knew that at some point or another she would talk about what had happened.

 

_... Do not you know that when the truth is told_

_That you can get what you want or you can just get old?_

_You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through_

_When will you realize? Vienna waits for you_

_Slow down, you're doing fine._

_You can’t be everything you want to be before your tim ..._

 

"Sorry to have woken you up with my nonsense." El said suddenly, his voice hoarse and timid. "I'm sorry I bothered you. I didn’t want to, but ..." Her voice trailed off.

Mike took off the headset and looked into her eyes. Her eyes still gleamed beautifully, but there was something nebulous in the background; something that prevented the brightness of El to reach its peak.

"No problem, I ... I was awake."

El sniffed softly.

"You're lying. I can still feel it when you're lying." She adjusted the receiver to her ear. "Besides, you turn red when you lie."

"Okay, I may be lying, but what I said was true. No problem, you call me to talk about your nightmares." He played with a bunch that escaped the coke that He wore. Her hair was soft and delicate. "You can always call me, regardless of the time, I'll be here to listen to you."

"Mike ..."

"You can call me to talk about anything, I'll always be here for you, you can trust that."

"O-okay."

Silence. The conversation had not yet ended, something still tormented his mind.

"Why didn’t you call the Will? He was closer. Not that I'm complaining, you know, I'm just curious."

"Will's been a jerk the last few days." She sighed. "Y-you promise?"

"Promise what?"

"Promise to be with me always?"

"Promise." He probed her lips. "I promise to always be here for you."

Mike kissed her carefully but soon, feeling the insistent hands of El pulling him closer to her, he noticed that she didn’t have the same goal in mind. It was hard to resist her, especially when she was there, so close to him, so hot ...

Intoxicated by El's scent, driven by something that was not just a feeling but also a sensation, Mike pulled her closer to him and allowed both hands to rest on her waist. Mike and El were not like the other students, they didn’t usually go to school to kiss each other in a corner of the school, but they had their moments.

Sometimes it's good to be a little inconsequential, Mike thought and immediately shuddered as El, surprising him, ran his fingers through his hair and messed it up. It was a sweet and at the same time wild movement, something typical of her, but that didn’t cease to cause good feelings in him.

"Mike" El murmured against his lips. "What class do you have now? Anything really important?"

He blinked slowly, stunned. Class? What class Did they still have class? Still had school? The clock had not stopped spinning so the two of them would stay there, together?

"Class?"

This could start an El giggle. It was a low chuckle, almost nonexistent, but she really had existed and it filled him with pride. He had made her laugh, and she had been too immersed in herself a few minutes ago and in the anguish she felt.

"Do you have any important classes today in the first hour?" She traced the freckles on his face in a careful movement. That was good. "Because if you do not have anything important, maybe we can stay here in the music room until the second time."

"II do not have anything important." He tried to kiss her again and grunted as she pulled away. "Ellie, why are you torturing me like this ?!"

"I'm not torturing you, just trying to be responsible."

"I do not want you to be responsible." He grunted hoarsely. "I want to kiss you, can it be or is this too difficult?"

He stole a kiss from her, but El soon pushed him away.

"Michael Wheeler, concentrate! Are you sure you have nothing important? I do not want to take you to the dark side of the force."

"I have a vague lecture, Mr. Layhen, the biology teacher was missing today, I was going to the AV room to kill time." He answered unwillingly and then realized something. "Will not the music room be used in the first hour?"

"No. Miss Clarence was missing." El smiled. "I think she's Mr. Layhen are having an affair."

"Fuck them. I want to know about us."

"We're going to stay here, training." Mike blinked. "Dr. Owens said that I would have to train my skills, and at the moment we are training my self-control, I am with you and so far nothing has exploded.

"Definitely a breakthrough."

He leaned forward in a new attempt to start a kiss and this time he succeeded. El didn’t want to talk and he was in full agreement with this policy.


	7. Distrust: Keeping the undeclared enemy close

 

December 16, 1987

 

Mike pulled the textbook closer to him, his eager eyes reading and rereading all the information that was written there. The instructions the book provided were clear and there was no mistaking it. It was just adding a little calcium phosphate to the becker and it would be done ... God knows what the chemistry teacher had ordered, but it would have been done.

He measured the amount of sodium phosphate one last time and then leaned down enough to add the greenish mixture that lay on the table.

"I hate this girl." Max murmured to him, his blue eyes fixed on something in front of the classroom. "She's horrible, a horror of a person."

He looked up from the experiment and turned to see who the such odious person Max was so much complaining about. Maxine's blue eyes flashed at Nissa, who sat in the front of the room chatting animatedly with her lab partner.

The voice of the girl that El had presented to them was a bit nauseated, she dressed in an exaggerated way, as if she were about to pick the soul of some poor poor thing, was a little too curious but otherwise, Mike saw nothing wrong with her.

"What's your problem with her?" Mike asked. "Nissa seems like a nice person. I think Dustin has a crush on her."

"Dustin has a crush on any girl who shows up in front of him." Max rolled his eyes and Mike could not disagree with her. "The fact is that ... It's strange. The girl dresses like a punk and still uses those short clothes, but acts like a detective / patricinha. She did a damn interrogation about my life yesterday during class algebra."

"Stop being suspicious. It's just questions, Maxine."

"It's not just questions. It seems like it's evaluating the territory, looking for our weaknesses." Max countered, tapping his fingers against the table. It was annoying. "I do not like her, Wheeler. There's something wrong with this girl and I'll find out what it is."

He arched an eyebrow at her, shocked.

"Max, you're sounding like an aggressive psychopath who's going to kill your target and all those who defend him." He nodded at the chemistry project that lay on the table they shared. "Concentrate on that, okay?"

The redhead muttered something that Mike ignored. All he wanted was to finish that damn chemistry project and walk out of that room.

The silence that settled over them did not last long and Mike was not surprised by it. Max was not like El, she was not accustomed to being silent or allowing others to remain. The redhead that Lucas Sinclair had as his girlfriend was a naturally restless and noisy person. This sometimes bothered Mike, who was accustomed to being the noisy one in the relationship he shared with El.

But that on his side was not the kind, lovely, and often contained The Hopper; that was Maxine Mayfield, the redheaded girl as noisy as him, the group's zoomer, the girl who was not willing to leave Mike Wheeler alone. The boy squealed loudly as Max's cold fingers brushed against his neck.

"What the fuck are you doing, Mayfield?" Mike squeaked loudly attracting the attention of the teacher and his classmates.

"Beware of your language, Mr. Wheeler." The teacher scolded.

Feeling a flaming face, Mike briefly apologized to the teacher and turned to Max. The redhead, who usually enjoyed the ease with which he blushed or began to stutter in embarrassing situations, did not look very happy.

"I was going to ask about your girlfriend, how she is, and such, but from what I see." He slapped her hand when he saw her neck as the target of a new nudge. "She looks very good as she has red marks around her neck. Tell her she needs to be a bit more careful about what she does to you, the Sheriff might not like that."

"Why do not you tell her?" He asked, adjusting his coat so that the place Max prodded was protected from unwanted looks.

Max, who had decided in the last five minutes that the old rusty school scalpel was worthy of his attention, pointed the object toward Mike as if about to assassinate him.

"You know very well why, Wheeler!" She gestured with the scalpel to every possible direction and it horrified Mike. "Now, close the beak and finish the crap of this project."

Why are girls so complicated? Mike mentally asked himself as he added the damn calcium phosphate to the damn chemistry project. He kept his eyes on the small, notorious chemical reaction even as Max sniffed softly on his side. She was crying. Maxine Mayfield was crying!

The boys rarely got involved in the fights between El and Max, even because they rarely quarreled. But this time it was different, what was happening was not anything, it was affecting both Max and El, and needed to come to an end before the two of them hurt themselves even more.

The fact is that even though she was quieter and calmer than Max, El was as witty and stubborn as her friend; neither would take the first step without someone intervening.

"Just so you know, my girlfriend is not well." He tried to keep his voice neutral, casual. "She's sad, Max, and this thing with you, Will and Brenner is only making things worse."

"She who had thought of it before ..."

"Before what, Max? Before helping a freak?" He ran his hand through his hair, suppressing the feeling of anger growing inside him. "Do you know who is freak too? My girlfriend."

Max hit Mike on the shoulder, watery blue eyes glowing with anger.

"My friend is not a freak, do not call her that!" The girl hissed. "Why are you calling her a freak?"

Mike did not know whether to laugh or cry at it. She had not really noticed, had she?

"I did not call her a freak. I'm saying someone, someone redheaded, in the midst of her anger, may have called her an freak." He fixed his eyes on the chemistry project. It was bubbling. "Just ... Talk to her. I'm not asking you to like that boy, I'm just asking you to talk to her."

"She does not want to talk to me. She's avoiding me."

"We're going to the scrap today after school, Max, and there might be a good place for you to talk to her." He nudged the experiment. "Listen, I do not trust Ten either, but I'd rather keep an eye on him than make a fool of myself. I'd rather be close to El, than abandon him to that idiot."

He would never tell El did not trust Ten, not when she trusted blindly in him and all he spoke, not when it could hurt El unnecessary way. Mike knew how to keep things to himself, he knew how to assess the terrain, and knew that being around was better than staying away. Mike's grandfather, an old gentleman who had fought so much in the first and second war, had taught him that it was always good to keep enemies around.

Ten was not yet a declared enemy, he had done absolutely nothing to arouse suspicion and Mike still did not know if he would do any of these things, but he still did not trust El's "brother" and preferred to keep it under his eyes . The two teenagers exchanged no more words after that, both too immersed in themselves to notice each other.

At the end of the day Mike took a little longer than normal to get the bike in the bike rack, was giving Max a chance to come up and announce that he was going to the old iron. Half an hour later Mike was pedaling toward the old rendezvous all alone; no sign of Max or any of his friends. Everyone had already taken their course and it was time for him to do the same.

The first thing Mike saw when he got to the iron was El. She was standing in the middle of the old, abandoned cars as if she were in the center of a stage. The second thing Mike noticed was that Steve, Will, Lucas and Dustin were around her like an audience, shouting incentives and advice completely unconnected.

"I'm trying to focus, if you still do not notice." El growled in response to someone. "But..."

"Concentrate more, Ellie!" Will cut in abruptly, then was elbowed by Lucas and Dustin. "Just ... Try to focus on one thing, that's what most superheroes do."

"Concentrate?"

"Use both hands to stabilize. You only used one, use both now." Dustin advised. "Keep your legs firm."

"Focus on a feeling." Lucas said next to the two friends. "Something strong."

With broad brown eyes, bright and full of confusion that gave him an air of childish (and cute) innocence, El looked at the four instructors. She looked as confused as the night they'd found her in the rain.

Mike, who to date had not been noticed by anyone, was about to intervene when he saw El react. She no longer seemed to be listening to her friends' words, she was ignoring them completely and focusing on something beyond them.

El lifted both hands before him, chin jutting defiantly, and maybe it was the distance or a trick of light, but Mike could swear that her eyes were dark as night. It took him half a second to notice that something was happening, that the old bus where they had been hiding when they were twelve was moving slowly. The old bus, which for more than thirty years had been abandoned and unmoved, was moving.

It was like watching an improved and much more audacious remake of the time she had sent the bad guys van through the air. The same shock, the same paralysis of bones and nerves that kept him from moving closer to her. Long ago, El had not used her powers that way (in something so big, heavy and flashy) and it was impossible not to be shocked.

Mike liked El as she was, the complete package of powers, sweetness, and now very rarely, moments of worldly innocence. He adored her as she was and did not want to change her into anything. The problem is that it was not the case with her; He did not accept himself. She wanted to be like other people, wanted to leave behind the past in the laboratory and had managed to do this by ignoring her own powers.

El's composite expression broke into a grimace of exhaustion, his feet wavering a little to the side as she tried to stand. Mike, with the vivid image of the way El had fallen on the floor in the nightmare they had shared, ran to catch her before she fell to the ground.

"I got you, El." He murmured against her ear.

"Great timing, Wheeler." She smiled faintly in response.

Mike sat on the floor and snuggled her close to him, trying to be kind when he looked for something that would indicate how bad she was. She could not contain a trembling sigh of relief as she found nothing but a wan pallor. No blood or veins dilated in the face; only a sickly whiteness that gradually disappeared.

"What happened, El?" Will asked as Steve fell in front of the couple and took the girl's face in his hands. "You've lost control, or ..."

"I got distracted, that's all." She shook her head. "It will not happen again."

"Your nose is not bleeding," Dustin points out with kindness and pride. "You do not look like a zombie like you always do when you use the powers."

El moans softly and hides his face against Mike's chest when compared to a zombie.

"Dude," Lucas snaps, striking an unfriendly punch at his friend's shoulder. "You can not say a girl looks like a zombie."

"How about ... A vampire hungry for human blood?" Another punch, this time stronger. "Ouch, Lucas, I'm just trying to help."

"Stop helping, Dustin."

"Then he does not know why he does not have a girlfriend." Steve grunts trying to continue his check on El's well-being. "Man, you need to improve your tactic with the girls."

"I've improved so much that I'll be going on a date with Nissa tonight." Dustin bragged and then pointed accusingly at Steve. "Dude, I'm better than you are with the girls."

"Certainly, Henderson, you and your imaginary girls." Steve chuckled, making him startle. "Man, you need to stop inventing imaginary girlfriends. That's pathetic."

Somehow that Mike could not understand how or exactly why, the conversation turned completely Nissa Puckett and the hot date she would have to Dustin that night. Mike did not care about Nissa or what happened to her; he did not even pay attention to what she was doing.

The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was how El was. Mike was not undoing the new girl or what, according to Dustin himself, would be the big date where he would finally get a girlfriend, but the fact is he did not he cared about none of it. Everything seemed so ... futile, especially with his girlfriend there, lying on the floor.

Fifteen minutes later the main subject of Dustin, Lucas and Will was still Nissa Puckett and how sexy she had been that morning at school. These fifteen minutes were the time it took for El to resume his haughty pose and his stubbornness.

"What do you mean 'take a little break in training,' Steve Harrington?" El asked, still leaning against Mike, his fists clenched. "I'm fine, Steve, I've never felt better, I can continue this ... Can this be called training?" "You just kept shouting instructions at me and it was pretty confusing."

Steve, after muttering a series of blasphemies that Dustin stop drooling over Nyssa, shook his head to El, completely oblivious to criticism for it.

"Your father would kill me if he knew that I forced you to continue with the training, because, yes, this can be considered a training."

El rolled his eyes.

"Hopper does not need to know anything." She said maliciously and then withered when Steve looked up. "Please, Steve, I'm feeling good, we do not have to stop doing this training thing."

El of the most stubborn creatures Mike had ever known, so much so that Will, when he wanted to embarrass his sister and best friend, used to say that she would be the worst wife in the world. Such was the stubbornness and insistence of El that, in the end, Steve Harrington gave in to her, to the arguments and the big puppy eyes that fell from the change.

"Nothing to move buses with the force of your mind ..."

"The name said it's Telekinesis, Steve. It's the psychic ability to move, manipulate and control various people and objects with the mind without touching them physically."

"Thank you for your touching definition, Dustin." Steve grinned mockingly. "Continuing: we'll continue with your training, but let's try something new. Dustin, bring the material we separate!”

With the help of Dustin, Steve distributed to the four boys younger roles and more roles. Mike frowned as he flipped through the papers and found nothing but figures. A diamond, a triangle, a star, and ... Was that a butterfly?

He looked up, the criticism on the tip of his tongue as he realized that, after all, Steve and Dustin had a plan in mind. This became even clearer when Steve pushed Mike away from El and positioned her in front of the four boys. El had his old look of innocent curiosity in his eyes, the look she wore when she was really confused.

"I do not know anything, El." Mike whispered over his friends' excited voices as the girl looked at him for answers. "I'm sorry."

El's brown eyes, though still filled with innocent curiosity, crinkle as she grimaces in disgust. Mike can not contain a low laugh; El's goal is to be grumpy, to make it clear just how annoyed she is, but all she can do is look like a very cute birch child.

"Do not apologize, Wheeler, for it is good you do not know anything. If you know something probably say everything to her." Steve ordered tidying his hair. Always the hair. "Very well, El, we all know that you essentially move objects with your mind ..."

"Telekinesis," Dustin said, looking as happy as ever when he added that and then flinched when Steve looked at him. "You can continue, Steve, we're all listening to you."

"Continuing, one more time: we want to test something with you, okay? It's just a test." Steve pointed at Mike and the others. "Basically, you're going to need to guess what you have in the role that each of those nerds you know friends are holding. It's simple."

Mike could not contain the urge to frown and let out a low growl. Everyone knows that El's powers basically consist of telekinesis; never went beyond that. It was not like she was a mental reader like Professor X and Jean Gray. El was not like the X-men (much in spite of him already having compared them to them), she had no vastness of powers hidden within her, ready to be discovered. Or had he?

El, who after convincing Steve to continue training did not seem too willing to argue with him, just tied up his hair and turned to Dustin. She tilted her head a little to the side, her golden brown eyes taking on a darker tone ... Then her eyes had really darkened, there had been a trick of light.

It was hard to look away from her, but Mike could do it and look at Dustin. The curly had lips pouting, blue eyes looking astonished.

"Pyramid, circle, square and ... Dodecae ..." he murmured, his dark eyes fixed on Dustin.

"Dodecahedron." Dustin finished with an enchanted sigh. "Since when are you so beautiful, El?"

Burning cheeks, Mike looked at Dustin completely jealous. Mike's jealousy would have lasted much longer if he had not turned to him with a victory smile.

Slowly, the jealousy that had invaded Mike's body was fading into ... In admiration. God, she was beautiful. All Mike wanted at that moment was to drown in the obsidian sea that was her eyes. He would give El everything she wanted ... The sky, the stars ... He would tell her what the figures Steve had given him ...

Diamond, star, butterfly and triangle ...

"Diamond, star, butterfly and triangle" El's voice announced and she had never sounded so sweet, so seductive. "That's it, is not it, Mike?"

Unsure whether he could formulate a coherent sentence or that if it was not about her beauty, Mike nodded quickly.

El continued to do what Steve had ordered and the same scene that had happened to him was repeated with Lucas and Will; they both praised El (they told her how cute she was and how the world did not deserve her) and she said, with accuracy, the figures they held. How ... How had she done that?

"What was this?" Will asked, puzzled, looking at his adopted sister accusingly. "Why ... What was that, El?"

Mike watched the girl shrug, an easy smile on her pink lips. She looked like a child who had done something very wrong and was enjoying the attention she received from the adults who were pressing her. She looked enchanted with the eyes that stared at her.

Little by little, the delighted expression of El went undone until it no longer existed. Her eyes were no longer fixed on the five boys, but rather on the red-haired figure between the old iron cars.

Now or things would get in the way or take a path without a turn. It was all in Max and El's hands.


	8. An explosion of suppressed feelings and pain for days

December 16, 1987

 

Red hair stuck in two very badly made braids, freckled face, no make-up, wide T-shirt from an alternative rock band that everyone was unaware of, dark blue coat, faded jeans and red all star.

Max, the girl who welcomed her as best friend and who accepted her with open arms. Max, El's best friend, the girl who had already put El in a lot of trouble and who had already escaped them by stupidly funny ways. The redhead who had already made her laugh as much as she had already blushed at his unobtrusive insinuations about the advance of her relationship with Mike.

El blinked slowly as Max approached them with a bright smile, as if nothing had happened between them. But it had happened and it was not as if El, whom Jonathan and Will had nicknamed as the most sincere person in the world, could pretend otherwise. Maxine had yelled at her, had called her, and Ten had freaks.

Aberration, freak ... Max's words, even if destined for Ten, had reached the heart of Will and Jonathan Byers' adopted sister and had stayed there. If Max thought Ten was an abnormal, she probably thought the same about El, since the girl ... Since there were so many similarities between the two. The powers, the isolated creation and without freedom, the way of being coined. Of course she thought the same about El, why would not she?

"Hey, people." Max kicked the skateboard so that it would come to rest in his hands. "What are you doing?"

The boys babbled synchronized responses to the redhead, something El did not bother to do. She put on the coat she'd thrown on the floor and checked to see if she'd actually packed all the belongings into her backpack, avoiding Max's eyes as much as she could.

El simply could not keep pretending that nothing had happened. She was afraid to say something that would hurt the redhead, something that could never be fixed and that would destroy their friendship for good. No, it was best to take a break, cool your head and keep your distance.

"All right," Lucas said, wrapping his arms around Max, making everyone laugh when she pushed him away from her. "What was all this? Did El read our mind?"

She felt all the blood gather in her cheeks as all eyes turned to her. El hated to be the center of attention.

"It was almost like she was inside my head, manipulating me slowly until I got what I wanted." Will spoke and everyone, including Mike, nodded. "It was all very confusing and suddenly all I could think was to give ..."

"Give her what she wanted." Mike completed looking at El through the dark wires that fell over his eyes. "How did you do it?"

She shrugged, not knowing how to explain what she had done. There was not much to explain about what had happened. El had desired with all the forces he had within him know what was in the papers that the boys held. She simply had ... Desire.

The act of wanting had made the boys' hazy thoughts a little less confused and began to echo faintly inside her mind. She had literally entered her friends' heads and still could not conceive of that realization. It was one thing to be able to understand what the boys felt (Mike, mostly) and quite another to get inside their heads.

It had been terrifying, enlightening, and invasive. Now El could understand more about the boys, what happened to them, and what they did. After that she could never complain that she did not understand the boys.

"I ... I think I've gotten into your head." Let the hair so that it cascaded around you and hide the Max looks. "I don’t know how I did it, okay? I did not know I could do this, I swear to anything in this world ..."

"Breathe, Him." Mike stroked her shoulder with affection and she immediately felt better. "No one is judging you."

"Exactly, little Jane Austen, no one is judging you. The purpose of it all was to know if his powers were restricted to telekinesis that was proven, it is not the case." Steve leaned forward smugly against an old car whose green paint had long been rusted with rust. "Hopper said he suspected it for some time."

"El" Dustin's high chuckle startled her to the point of shrinking against Mike. Sudden loud noises still made her peck like an animal. "You're our Jean Gray."

She lowered her head, unable to smile at Dustin's compliment. El did not want to be an X-men, especially Jean Gray, who had had such a crappy fate after being possessed by the black phoenix; all that El wanted was to be just herself. No more than that.

After that, Steve's complete dislike, Dustin and the boys took the lead. They began to talk things El did not understand, real-world science with things in the world of comics, to reach a consensus: psionic manipulation. She, who despite living surrounded by nerds, who was dating a first-rate nerd, did not know what they were talking about and was not the only one not to know about. Max and Steve were also in the same boat of confusion in which she drifted.

"Psyonic manipulation, obtuse little spectators, is the use of the mind to manipulate and create phenomena that society believes to be impossible." Dustin explained patiently. "That includes your telekinesis powers, but also others like empathy or telepathy. There are other things, but that's it."

"Empathy?" Max asked interested.

"It means she's more sensitive than all of us." Mike pressed her against him. "This sensitivity can make her feel what others feel. I think it also worsens the intensity of everything that she feels. Anger, happiness, sadness."

A new round of nerd talk ensued, this time the speculations were about El's powers: would they only come down to those three or would they go beyond that? It was strange to hear Will and Max talking about her so naturally, taking into account everything that had been going on between them in the last few days. One was ignoring her and the other was being rude to her.

She looked up to make a comment about something Lucas had said and then froze as she found Max staring at her. What was she doing, was he mentally judging her? She should not do this, not after finding out about El’s not-so-well-crafted telepathy.

"What are you doing, El?" Mike questioned, alarmed, as she pulled away from him and started to get up. "Some problem?"

She tried to smile reassuringly, and even without seeing herself, she knew that she had failed greatly. El was not good at hiding things, at lying and that's what she was about to do.

"I have biology test tomorrow, I need to study." She steadied the backpack. "So I'm leaving now.”

"I can teach you," Steve offered, and Mike grunted at this offer. "What is it, Wheeler?"

"You're not going to teach biology to my girlfriend! I remember how you taught that matter to my sister and it definitely will not happen to the El."

"Damn, Wheeler, I would never do that to little Ellie Jane. She's like a sister to me. You would, I wouldn’t." Steve turned to Will. "You don’t mind, do you, Byers?"

Will gave a similar chirp to what the cats let go when they were run over or faced with eminent risk.

"You're going to stay away from my sister, Steve! Nothing to teach biology to her.” He shot Mike with green eyes on fire. "And you too, Wheeler, will stay away from my little sister!"

Mike looked outraged.

"What? As well? I did nothing!"

"And neither will do. You want to teach human anatomy for her and I refuse to allow this to happen!" Said red-faced and El could feel her face flushing as well. "You're not going to do things with my little sister. You will leave her innocence in peace. "

"Innocence? Seriously, William? "El scoffed. "You can’t imagine how you're so far behind in this big brother thing protecting other people's purity. I'm leaving, okay? "

El was aware of Steve saying he was not sure she went home alone that Hopper had been clear about that, but the only thing to which she could pay real attention to movement made by Max. Appearing relaxed as ever, Max embraced skateboard and got to his feet, as if he were leaving too.

"I'll go with you!" The redhead came out and it terrified her. El did not want to be with her, not when resentment still pulsed within it. "You don’t mind, do you, Ellie?"

And then the terror was gone and in his place something warm and definitely bad. Anger and irritation. Why was Max acting that way, as if nothing had happened? It was ... It was horrible and El just could not do the same thing.

"I care, really." She answered sharply and that made an uneasy silence settle in the room. "I'd rather go home alone."

Max blushed, the freckles fading from his face and camouflaging the blood stream that had settled there. The malaise that hung in the air was palpable, but El did not mind that all she wanted now was to make it clear how she felt, how she was hurt.

"Of course you don’t, El." Max stepped a few steps closer to El and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Besides, it's not interesting that a girl like you leaves home alone. You're too delicate for that." She turned to the boys. "Is not she a delicate and lovely little thing? We really don’t want anything to happen to you, little cuteness well. "

She narrowed her eyes at Max, aware that she would not give up.

"I know I care, Maxine, better than you might think. But, damn it, do what you want."

The way home was, for lack of a better word, silent. El refused to look at Max, even though he knew that the redhead was following her closely, kicking little snowplows at a time, trying to start a friendly dialogue that had always been abruptly cut off. El preferred to pay attention to the forest, to the path he had to tread to get home and hide from the world.

The trees were no longer green in them, and the ones they had were completely covered with snow. Hopper said that this was the worst winter Hawkins had ever experienced, and El, with pleasure, used to disagree with this statement. It depends on what you have to know if a winter is bad or not. Having warm clothes, a house and food at the table made winter a good season. But if the contrary happened, if there was no clothing, food, or a warm house, the winter was painfully cold.

No one knows what it's really cold to be there, tossed in the snow, shaking with cold and fearing hours and hours longing for death. El knew it or what it was. She shuddered as she remembered the time she had spent hidden in those woods, the dark time she had lived until she was found by ...

"Ellie?" Max, who had been struggling to keep up with her in the last few minutes, caught her attention. "We need to talk, clear things up between us."

"Believe me, Maxine, you made it very clear." She grabbed some of her hair and pretended to be more interested in the ends than in the redhead who was with her. "But go ahead, I'm listening to you."

Max made a squeaky noise that was not characteristic of him, then cleared his throat. She seemed to be looking for the right words or the rush of courage she needed so badly.

"All right, then ... I just want you to know that I'm sorry for calling your brother an abnormal. I'm sorry that this hit you and I'm sorry, especially having been rude to you at school." She pulled air into her lungs hard. "I should not have said those things, it was very wrong to have done that.”

El swallowed.

"All right, Maxine." She does not look at Max when she says that because she just could not lie looking directly into someone's eyes. The thing of _friends don’t lie_ really got rooted inside her. "Everything okay."

But they both knew that nothing was good and fact finding El be snow that trod the most interesting thing in the world showed that. She must have felt Max's exasperation, the sadness that turned into restlessness, but she felt nothing and so did not anticipate the next of the redhead.

Before she could take one more step, Max grabbed her arm and pulled her back. The movement did not destabilize the chestnut, it only made a new wave of rage run through her body.

"If it's all right, El, why don’t you look me in the eyes? Why do you keep avoiding me?" Max asked with a slight frown. "I'm open-hearted, El, something I don’t do commonly, so I just ask you to do the same to me. I want you to tell me what you're feeling, I want to know if you can forgive me."

El unravels himself from Max's touch with a not at all gentle movement. She fights against the power that exists within it, which demands to be released and played against the person who pesters. As irritated and upset as she may be with Max, he would never hurt her through her powers. A kick in the shin? It seemed reasonable. Launch the redhead in the air using telekinesis? Don’t.

Resentment runs through El's body. Anger, irritation, sadness ... Fuck off! She thought, deciding she was too tired to be suppressing those overwhelming feelings. Everyone had their explosive moments, everyone, even Dustin, had already shouted at the seven winds how they felt and that made El wonder why she should not do the same thing? No one in the party had any feelings for her, so why should she?

"I'm angry, Max! I'm literally burning with rage. Do you think I don’t know that I, being from the same crowd as Ten, am also a freak? Guess only: I know! I don’t need you to keep throwing it in my face, yelling at me. None of us asked to be born like that. I did not ask to be born so, to be what I am. "She hissed venomously, tears emerging and running without her permission." Do you think it does not hurt enough to see how the Will avoid me for being who I am to trying to forget what happened to him, how he went to The Upsidown because of me?"

"El ..."

"Do you know anything else that's consuming me, Max? The fear. I'm afraid of everything and everyone. I'm afraid Brenner can get close to me again. I'm afraid of losing my family, the only family that really accepts me, or at least they did ... "She can’t stop talking, the filter that separates what should and can’t be said is forgotten somewhere in her mind. Everything is just coming out. "I'm afraid of myself, of the power that exists within me and that I can’t control. I'm just scared to death. I don’t want to lose everything I could. I never want to be a laboratory experiment. I'd rather die than go back to be just a number, Maxine. "

"I understand, El, I really do."

She walks from side to side, unable to stand still. Max is just a blur before El's teasing eyes, but she does not care. Her dam exploded, and now all she can do is let the flood of emotions completely dominate her.

"You don’t understand, no one really understands. No one knows what that is." An involuntary sob has escaped and she knows it is a sign of weakness. "I just ... I just wanted to help Ten, Max, I wanted to do something good in the middle of that shit I sank in. I wanted to reciprocate the good Mike did for me. I just wanted to give back the kindness they once did for me, I wanted to save someone, I can’t save myself. "

"You need not be saved from anything, El." Max tried to get closer and was soon repulsed. "We're here with you."

"Are you sure of that, Max? Because sometimes I feel like I'm still alone."

"You feel like that because you don’t let anyone approach you. No one but Mike, but he has his problems and he can’t be one hundred percent for you." Another attempt to approach and this time El is so steeped in her own pain that she does not even realize it. "You can count on us, El. Me, Will, Lucas and Dustin are here for you."

"It was not what it sounded like when you were yelling at me or when Will is avoiding me ..." Is she shaking or is a small earthquake happening at that moment?

The first sob comes, the second, the third, and before El realizes, she's sobbing in Maxine Mayfield's arms.

"It's going to be all right, Ellie, it's going to be okay." Max strokes her brown curls neatly. "We're going to take care of you. The pain, the sadness, the fear and this anger ... Everything will end. Let's get it over with. "

Hiccups and more hiccups, blurry and blurred vision thanks to tears and then the two are on the floor. Max's voice, always so loud and full of strength, becomes soft as she cradles her friend from side to side. She's saying something, something comforting that he really can’t understand. Why now that all the feelings have been vomited out at once, all that is left is the cold sense of guilt.

The guilt of yelling at Max, of hiding what he was feeling in the last days, of belittling the feelings of others and putting himself above everything and everyone. Blame her for being that horrible person she was and for destroying the lives of the people around her. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

And then she's spitting apologies about Max. She just wants to apologize, apologize for all she did, for all her actions.

"I'm sorry ... I really did not want him to hurt you, that Ten would do that to you ..."

Max continues to stroke her hair, fingers brushing her curls with a zeal that makes Eleven's eyes heavy.

"You don’t have to apologize, Ellie, I need to apologize to you." A pause. "I was a perfect bitch with you, with my best friend ... You think you can excuse me?"

El shakes his head hastily. All she wants is her friend back, the confidant who understood her, and despite her critics and laughter, he helped her. It looked like the two of them had been fighting for a month, and no, there was only one day.

"Okay, so it looks like my crime partner has come back to me." Max laughs against her curls and El manages to let out a small smile. "Can I stay at your place today?"

"Girl's night?"

"Totally, kitty. Girls night." Max chuckles. "We need to talk about you, Mike, and his neck."

The long-awaited blush did not go up El's cheeks.

"Ten's still in my house, Maxie, and I don’t think he'll leave so soon."

El shrank, expecting a reaction from Max. It did not happen.

"Well, he needs a place to stay, does not he?" The redhead's forced laughter echoed through the forest. "And I want to be with my friend. I think we're going to have to reconcile this."

It was not a promise to talk to Ten or like him, but it was a start.

The Byers-Hopper house was surprisingly empty. There was no sign of Joyce, Hopper or Ten, and this, now that the torpor of feelings had passed, worries her greatly. That house was never empty, and when it was, it usually had a note telling what had happened.

Advising Max to call home and tell her mother about the girls' nighttime idea, El was just a few steps from the top of the stairs that would lead to the second floor of the house when the loud and absolutely nothing subtle screaming sound began to echo through the house. Something, a bad feeling, made her turn around.

Max, who had already put an end to the noise when he answered the old telephone, had a serious look on his freckled face. The conversation between her and the person on the other end of the line is brief and ends with the redhead reaching for El.

"Jane Hopper talking." She looked at Max, confused when everything else was static. "Hello?"

"This is the head nurse at Hawkins General Hospital, Clarice Emmers, and it's a standard procedure to call a relative of one of our patients and ..."

El shuddered as a strange shiver ran down her spine.

"Pardon? I guess I'm not understanding, Lady ..."

"You're the daughter of ..." It followed the sound of several papers being clad. "James Richard Hopper, Sheriff of Hawkins?"

It was strange to hear Hopper's full name; It was one thing to read his name, written with those letters scanned on the certificate of adoption, and another very different to hear it, especially being pronounced by a complete stranger.

"Y-yeah," she stammered, leaning against the kitchen counter. "My father ... he wants to talk to me, is that it? Has anything happened to Powell or Call?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t know who these people you're talking about. I'm the head nurse at Hawkins General Hospital, Miss Hopper, and I've been told to the Sheriff's relatives that he's just joined this unit ... "

Was it her impression or was the world beginning to spin? Her vision was beginning to blur, but she just did not know why. Everyone was fine. Her friends were fine, her brothers were fine, Joyce was fine and Hopper ...

She groaned internally, a bad feeling growing inside her stomach as the truth flourished in a bad way.

"What happened to my father? He's fine, right?"

The woman on the other end of the line let out an exasperated breath.

"The sheriff entered this hospital unit about thirty minutes ago, was shot during a chase and is currently in the operating room." A brief throttle. "I'm sorry, child."

She closed her eyes as the woman began to speak a series of information about Hopper's condition, and immediately a series of images exploded inside her mind. _Hopper lying on the floor, completely bloody, Hopper in the operating room, looking pale and listless, Joyce crying in a waiting room ..._

Oh God! Hopper was injured, they had injured the only father figure El had in his life. Hopper was a person she should have called "dad", but she had never done so because of Brenner's persistent ghost.

Hopper is dying, she thought in pain, her whole body shaking. My dad is dying and there's nothing I can do about it ...


	9. The pain deepens every second and tears can’t fall

December 16, 1987

 

Strong, she simply had to be strong. Crying was not an option, panic was not an option, surrender to sadness was not an acceptable option. El could not give in to this, not when Joyce had already done it and needed to be comforted. Hopper was the family rock, and now that he was lying on a hospital bed, it was El's turn to be the rock.

Perhaps she would give in to the weeping, the anguish that tormented her later, but that was not the moment. Hopper had taught her, even without wanting to succumb to fear and panic, that they would not solve anyone's problems. During a really bad situation she should not / could go into despair. It was simple and practical: Erase your head, go ahead and then, when it's all over, mourn everything that has happened.

It was that simple. It had to be simple.

"It's going to be okay, _Mom_. It'll be fine." She said as Joyce, still in her work robes, clung to her as if the youngest girl was his lifeline. "He'll be fine. I mean, look at the size of it. Nothing can overthrow it."

"I know that, dear, I know and I trust that."

And El knew how much Joyce needed to trust. It was no secret to anyone that Joyce's first marriage had been a fiasco full of screams, slaps and traumas and, judging by this unpleasant past, in this second marriage to Hopper things were perfect. No screaming, no tapas. The traumas were still there (thank you, Demogorgon), but little by little they were overcome.

The younger girl looked away at the redhead curled up in one of the armchairs in the waiting room. Max's presence was reassuring, it filled him with strength to remain steadfast, but he also reminded her that there were others who needed to be told what had happened.

"I told Jonathan how I got here and he said he was coming here as often as possible. I could not find Will or Mike." Shrugged. "Maybe I should try to call home again. Maxie, can you stay here with her?"

Max immediately took El's place, and as he walked away, the other girl could not help thinking that Joyce, moving from one arm to the other, looked more like a needy child than a forty-five-year-old woman.

She walked in hurried footsteps, the sound of the heels of her boot tinkling with every step she took. El hated hospitals, especially that particular hospital whose setting seemed to have been carefully crafted to resemble the cold decor of Hawkins's lab. White tiles in monotonous tones, the smell of sanitary water mixed with blood, the constant noise of people screaming and crying, the back and forth of faceless people, the pain, the sadness, the smell of death that hovered in the air .. It was all so painfully like the place where El had grown.

Nonsense, forget that and focus on what’s happening right now, he thought, shaking his head. Keep your head clean, away from the lab and Pap ... She grunted loudly as she slammed into someone's body. She closed her eyes, ready for the impact that never came. She did not fall to the ground. Two pairs of firm hands held her.

She blinked, stunned, and found Callahan and Powell's face staring at her with concern. The two held it, each holding one arm.

"Careful, Jane." Powell as he and Callahan steadied her. "You could end up hurting yourself."

She could not find a yellow smile to offer the two older men. This was not an appropriate situation for smiles. They had always been kind when she went to the police station, not as sweet as Steve and Floo, but always kind.

El got up looking behind them and from there, and managed to see that the receptionist of the hospital was absent from his post. Slowly an idea, an insistent thought began to pop into her mind. Something that, for the sake of her sanity, could not be dismissed as irrelevant. Nothing was irrelevant.

What had happened? Hawkins was a tiny town and almost nothing happened there, so it was extremely strange that a police chase had happened and ended up at that hospital. Monsters, scientific experiments: all this was more acceptable than a chase going on in that little bit of the end of the world.

"A chase, Jane, you know that." Powell said, uncomfortable, and El could have sworn he was hiding something. His little lie had an unpleasant odor. "The guy was hiding in the middle of the bush, near the lake of the lovers, and out of nowhere he ran when he saw us.

"Strange? It was very strange." Callahan commented looking at El. He was a good man, the Callahan, just a little mouth too open. "It seemed like he knew the guy. It was almost like the whole thing was personal."

Powell seemed to be torn between hiding his face on the floor and wanting to punch the face of his work buddy. Great, there was another proof that he was lying, and if El knew him well, he would not let go at all. She could influence him, do what she had done with the boys, but why did she need to use her powers and exhaust herself when Callahan and her big mouth were around?

"Call?" El did not pout as she always did when she wanted one of Hopper's cops to do something she wanted. She stood firm and serious. "You think you could describe what the guy was like?"

Callahan nodded positively as Powell tried, subtly, to stop what he was about to do. El knew immediately of two things and she did not even have to get into Powell's head for that, such was the truism: He was really lying and doing it at Hopper's own request.

"He was not his age, Jane, or ours. He had white hair, was tall, fair skin, blue eyes, dark clothes that looked like hell-like, scarred face ..." The man frowned . "Did Hopper say anything, a name or was it a curse? I did not hear it right, did you hear, Powell?"

"I didn’t hear anything, Callahan, and you'd better stop it because you're scaring the Sheriff's daughter ..."

"I'm not scared, Powell, far from it." She smoothed the T-shirt she wore. "Brenner, is that what he said?"

"That's it, Jane!" Callahan's face contorted in a brief delight. "How do you know that?"

She gathered all the forces that had to try to give a good answer for them. Brenner. The bastard El had once known for Papa had hurt Hopper.

"Jane?" Powell called as she was about to pull away on the pretext that she had to call Will to get away from them. "He'll be fine, you know that, right? Your father is strong."

Hopper was strong, El knew that, but that certainty didn’t keep fear from eroding her bones. Brenner had done that and was certainly desperate enough to get his own hands dirty with blood. But was desperate even the right word to define Brenner? Absolutely not. The only word Brenner could say was coldness. He was cold, cold enough to do that and more.

Brenner had hurt Hopper, and who assured El that he would not do anything like that? No one could guarantee this to her why he would surely strike again. Martin Brenner was not giving up the things he dreamed of; if he wanted something, he insisted to the end, regardless of who had to hurt to do so. El knew this as no one because she had been and still was the target of his insane and possessive scientific idealization. She had already tasted the insanity of a bad man.

Because she was paranoid about what Brenner still could do, El almost infarcted when no one answered when he called home. If Will had been at home he would have attended, and if he was not at home that could mean that ... Will not! It just could not have happened to her brother. Just could not.

With trembling fingers and a hope struggling to survive inside her, she dialed the already-known number of each Wheelers. Maybe Will was with Mike, and if he was not there he could be at Steve's, Sinclair's or Henderson's, why nothing had happened to him, why he was all right...

"Mike?" El called as soon as one's breathing became heard. "Please, Mike ..."

"What do you want, girl?"

She shuddered. This was not the voice of her boyfriend, Mike was never rude like that, or there was so much evil in his voice. Mike was sweet and that voice was far from sweet. Ted Wheeler was acid, and if he were not Mike's father, if El didn’t have respect for him, she certainly would have sent him out.

But it was not time to bother her dislike for Ted, she had to know about Will.

"Mr. Wheeler? Do you know about my brother, he's there with Mike? Will there? Our mother is worried."

"It would not be the first time he's worried his mother." The older man grunted. "But, yes, your irresponsible brother is here."

She breathed, relieved, and murmured a small "Thank God."

"Do not thank him yet, girl ... Your brother ..."

Ted Wheeler never concludes whatever he was about to say about Will (which was a small blessing since, judging by his tone of voice, his next words would not be pleasant or kind). There was a stream of muffled noises, as if a fight was happening at that moment, muffled grunts, and then Mike's gasping voice came up.

She really could not understand Mike's gasping words. He sounded desperate and almost as if he was trying to spare her.

"Mike, what's going on? Is Will really okay?" His father said he was okay, but I'm still not sure about that. "

"Will is okay. Intact like never before." Someone close to Mike whimpered loudly as if in pain. "Shut up, you idiot! How's Hopper? He's going to be fine, is not it, El?"

"Of course he will. My father will be fine, Mike. He must be well." She sighed. "He lost a lot of blood, Mike, and the bullet was still lodged near his ribs. They already operated and took the bullet, but decided that it would be better to keep him in the ICU. Safer. "

Eleven held the sob that almost escaped him as he imagined life without Hopper. Will, Joyce and Jonathan had each other, but she only had Hopper. It was just the two of them, and Will's actions made it even clearer. El and Hopper were alone in the world, they only had each other, and if Hopper died she would be alone for good. Becky didn’t want her and without Hopper she would be officially an orphan, no longer have a family.

One more time without family. She should have noticed earlier that Hopper was not just the guy who had adopted her, she must have let go of the fear and called Hopper's father. It was only three letters, a word so small that it could have been uttered so easily had it not been for her fear. Fear had once again made Eleven fail.

El had failed with Hopper, the only person who had not failed her.

"I'm a lousy daughter, Mike." She whispered, looking down at her feet. "It's not that Becky hates me. I would have been a lousy niece too."

Mike didn’t answer immediately and once again a sequence of muffled noises made themselves heard. Will's voice, Mike cursing him, Holly crying in the background and Ted Wheeler cursing. Much noise.

"You're not a terrible daughter or niece, El. You're wonderful as a daughter, niece, and girlfriend." Mike retorted, and he was certainly being gentle and loving, but that love and kindness simply didn’t penetrate her skin. "You know, I'm going to stay with you. You can’t be alone."

"M-Max is here with me." Stammered ignoring the blonde nurse covered her face watching her. "Jonathan knows, and he'll be here soon. I'm not alone."

"No discussion. I'm going to stay with you, El." The boy scolded Ted Wheeler's voice in the background, forbidding him to go to the hospital, if he heard himself. Mike snorted in response. "I'm going to stay with you."

Once again, Theodore Wheeler's voice echoed in the background, this time the voice of his eldest son stood out. The man was complaining, he was cursing his children, El himself and everyone in the house. It was the first time she, and probably everyone in the house at that moment, had heard Ted talk so much.

Screams and more screams, the noise of something shattering into a thousand pieces, Holly, Karen Wheeler and Mike screaming. Many screams, swearing and tears. It was as if the Wheeler's house was collapsing. Mike, my poor Mike. The line was mute, nothing more than the classic rhetorical sound that phones emit when no one else is on the other side.

She didn’t need more to know that Mike would not stay with her and, wondering, it was okay. In the midst of that mess the best Mike could do was stay home and try to calm his sister.

Family in first place. This concept had not entered her head easily at first, when it was still a lonely number and with no one, but now she had finally managed to get the gist of the concept and knew very well what to do. Crying was still not an option, but maybe getting into the ICU where they had put Hopper in observation might be.

Turning away from inconvenient nurses and getting where she wanted was not as difficult as she had imagined. The whole thing was so frighteningly fast that before she could suspect her own luck, she was standing in front of the glass that separated the ICU from the real world.

The whiteness of the place where Hopper had been installed made the old man, connected by several wires and tubes, stand out as never before. She watched him for a few seconds and realized that she could not associate that man lying in bed with the man who had taken care of her with such appreciation. It was Hopper's body, but he was not there.

The world was full of possibilities, and as she stood in the middle of the ICU corridor, she realized that the possibility of Hopper never waking up, never coming back to her and Joyce.

 _I'm sorry, Dad_ , she thought, putting her hand on the glass. There was a lump in her throat that kept her from speaking. _I'm really sorry he did it to you._

Of course she knew that the presence of anyone other than the doctors and nurses in that place was not allowed. She was not stupid. But knowing about it didn’t stop her from jumping to see a young man with a clipboard approaching her with a reproachful look.

"What do you think you're doing here, young lady?" The man demanded in a loud, coarse voice. "Nobody is allowed in this area of the hospital. Who are you?"

"I wanted to see my dad." El pointed to Hopper. "I wanted to see if he's okay."

The man abandoned his haughty stance and sighed as he looked at her. She was just a little girl of probably fourteen (defenseless by her size), helpless, who wanted nothing more than to see her own father. He could relieve her invasion and, perhaps later, admire her audacity.

"Are you his daughter?" He asked, studying El black winter boots to his disordered curly hair, looking for a resemblance between the still man and the invading girl. "Jane Hopper?"

El nodded, straining to see the name on the badge the older man wore.

"Doctor Kenth? He'll be fine, right?" She avoids the doctor's gaze, not impertinence, but rather because she does not like being around strangers. It's uncomfortable. "My dad's going to be okay, right?"

"Of course you will, child. He's only here until we stabilize his condition, tomorrow we'll probably take him to a room." He reached out one hand in El's direction and then paused as he watched her retreat like a trapped animal. "Do you believe me, child? Do you believe your dad will be all right?"

"I'm sixteen years old: I'm not a child anymore." She grunted softly and then replied, "Of course I believe you. If you say my dad will be fine, I believe you."

"So why are you crying?"

She cursed mentally, both hands flying to erase the trail of tears she had not allowed to fall. Why did she sometimes have to be so stupidly unaware of herself? It was not for her to be crying.

"I'm not crying, just ... Just a speck fell on my eye." It was a stupid excuse, would not convince the doctor. But damn it, she didn’t have to convince anyone but herself. "I'm not crying."

"It's not a problem crying, girl." The doctor consoled her, looking almost pitiful. "It's good to cry, put your emotions out."

"I know, but, you know who else is crying? My mother. I can’tcry when it's her turn to." El retorted, staring at his shoes angrily.

 

"What’s this, a carriage of who can or can’tcry?" The doctor tried to relax and then grunted when the girl didn’t say anything. "Come on, girl, you can’tstay here. I'll walk you to the waiting room."

"I know the way back." El crossed his arms over his chest. "I do not need an escort."

"I know you do not have to, girl, I just want to talk to your mother ..."

"Are you going to tell her that I came in here?"

The man's red eyebrows arched at the suggestion.

"It could, right? It should, in fact." He smiled at El, a friendly smile and no threatening smile. "But I will not. For all intents and purposes you are a child, you are not aware of your actions."

Grunting about not being a child, Eleven accompanied the doctor down the winding corridors that made their way to the waiting room and almost (almost) smiled as he found Jonathan and Mike standing around Joyce and Max. She didn’t stop to think of Will while ran and threw himself against the two newcomers. The only thing that mattered was that they were there.

Mike and Jonathan had the smell of home and protection, everything she needed at that moment. She also wanted Will to be there but, knowing her brother's aversion to hospitals, she decided to let it go.

You also do not like hospitals and still is there, why then is making excuses for the absence of Byers ?, a wicked little voice asked in her mind. He's not there for one reason: why he does not like you and Hopper. He does not consider them as family.

"It'll be okay, shorty." Jonathan murmured against her hair, allowing Mike to be the one to hold her. "I'm going to talk to the doctor and you, Miss, go away with Mike and Nancy. She's waiting downstairs, the car is still on, I guess."

El pulled away from Mike as if the boy had electrocuted her, not happy at the suggestion of going home.

"That's not open to discussion, Ellie." Jonathan stared at her with kindness, his face tired. "You can’tspend the whole night in this hospital, El, Hopper would not want this. You need to rest."

"I'm not tired, Jonathan."

"We're not going to argue about it, Ellie," Jonathan pointed out. "You're going home, period."

She turned to Mike for support, then shut up with what she found. Printed on Mike's face, as if it had been painted with neon paint, there was a red stain that was easily distinguished as a man's hand. The red was getting dark, but it didn’t even reach the red feet of the small wound that existed above his eyebrow.

Jonathan, taking advantage of his younger sister's distraction, turned away and left the two alone; Mike with his face flushed with embarrassment and the perplexed.

"Mike." She gasped for her boyfriend's wounds. "What who...?" He swallowed the question, aware of who had done it to him from the first moment he'd touched his wounds. Ted was responsible for Mike's deplorable condition. "Why did he do this to you, Mike?"

Mike pulled her into a new hug and he didn’t hesitate to hug him back. They both needed that hug.

"My mother, she asked for separation and my father was not very happy." He said softly, his voice weak. "I'm going to sleep in your house today, you know. I'd better stay away from my father."

"He hurt you, Mike, a father shouldn’t hurt his son. That's not right ..."

"My father is not like yours, El. But, let's not talk about it now, can it be? Let's go to your house, you need to rest."

El shook his head, still not very willing to compromise and then stopped in front of Mike's tired face. He seemed to be at the bottom of the pit, and the hospital environment certainly was not helping to improve this state of mind.

She surrendered, and promising herself that she would return to the hospital as soon as the sun rose on the horizon the next morning, she allowed Mike to hold her and guide her out of the hospital. Now that she was inside Nancy's car, shrunk between Mike and Max, he hoped for a little moment of peace when he got home. Falling in bed, crying what she had not cried all that day, and, after all, closing her red and swollen eyes and drowning in the dream world to then forget the real world.

El's plans would be fulfilled, but before that, there would still be one last headache to end that long, exhausting day. The headache had a first and last name: Will Byers. And his actions would reach the peak of El's emotions, they would make her reach the limit of everything she could bear.


	10. All the little things are sharp daggers that hurt deeply

 December 17, 1987

 

Trying to start a conversation is stupid and insensitive; no one wants to talk about what is happening, and so silence becomes acceptable. Absolutely nothing comfortable, just slightly acceptable. The words were there, trapped in each one's throat, but no one dared utter them. Everyone was choked with their own truths.

But he couldn’t ignore the situation inside his stormy mind, the situation as a whole. Hopper is in the hospital, Mike's father and mother (finally) are breaking up, Ted beat him, El was depressed, and Will, his best friend, was drunk.

Mike just had not been able to believe when he met Will, cursing feebly and Dustin Lucas, tottering in the basement of his house, completely drunk. It was not as if they had never touched a drop of alcohol (in his first experience he had vomited for half an hour shortly after drinking two cans of beer), but it had been shocking to see Will in that state while his stepfather was hospitalized in hospital.

He didn’t really want to judge Will, so he'd chosen not to think his friend had filled his face with immaturity or insensitivity. Now, as Nancy parked in front of the Byers-Hopper house, all Mike wanted was that Will's drunkenness had subsided, or that Lucas and Dustin had been able to lock him in a room. El had already gone through a lot in a day and she definitely didn’t need Will tormenting her.

But El is and will definitely always be one of the smartest and most instinctive people Mike has ever had the pleasure of meeting in his entire life. While helping her get off the car, Mike knows she feels something is not right in her house. Her face has always given him the answers she needs and when she frowns it's clear she feels something is out of place.

She stared at the house with disappointment, as if she were seeing something beyond Mike's field of vision. And maybe she was seeing it, who knows? With each passing day it became increasingly difficult to understand how vast her powers were.

"El?" He rested a hand on her shoulder as Nancy and Max, trying to make the two of them private, moved back toward the house. "What is it?"

"You know very well what it was, Mike." El closes her eyes when a cheerful cry echoes across the grounds. "Why is he doing this to me and why exactly today?" She asks more to herself than to Mike and this gives him the certainty that she knows how her brother is.

After repeatedly asking that question to himself as he listened to the fights that Ted and Karen Wheeler were leading, Mike knew that there was no reasonable response and no heart ache. It was simple: there was no answer because there was no explanation for that. There was no justification for what Mike's parents did or what Will was doing.

There is no explanation for someone who decides to act stupidly beyond his own stupidity.

"El ..."

All Mike sees is the blur of brown curls that glides quickly away from him and moves into the house. El is undeniably faster than him and when he finally reaches her she is already standing in the doorway, her eyes wide.

In the center of the living room, leading a heated discussion, were Will and Max while Lucas, Dustin and Nancy tried to separate the two unsuccessfully. Ten was more in the background, sitting in the kitchen, watching everything with genuine interest. What could Mike say about that fight besides that she was truly worthy of his parents? The way Will sounded as aggressive as Ted when he drank, Max screamed as he tried to put his head on Will's drunken head-this was what Mike saw most nights at his house.

The difference was that it was not his house, those were not his parents, and that would not end in an ill-fated marriage with three traumatized children; would have an end a little less worse, but still bad.

"What's your problem, William Byers? Your father is in the hospital, and you decide that the best thing to do is to fill your face?" Max grunted, struggling to loosen his grip on Lucas. "You're an idiot who doesn’t know how to value what you have!"

"Pff! He is not my father! My father is somewhere in this world, with a whore, ignoring me and my brother. He ignores me, especially since he thinks I'm gay and everything. Not even a girlfriend convinced him that I'm not gay. Son of a bitch idiot." Will let go and his words sound slow and devoid of any remorse. "And will you please stop acting like it was my fault? It's not my fault that Hopper is in a hospital bed. I didn’t shoot him. You could have shot him, Nancy, since you know how to deal with guns and such. "

The discussion would certainly have continued for another few minutes if Will, searching the room with his unfocused green eyes, had not found El and Mike still standing in the doorway. Something flickered in Will's face, something wicked and definitely not ordinary.

Hugged on a bottle of Whiskey that God knows where he had gotten (seriously, where had he gotten a bottle of whiskey so full? It was as if someone was making sure he didn’t get sober), Will staggered toward his sister and paused in front of her. The two judged themselves and during the tense seconds of silence that followed, Mike struggled hard against the urge to hide El behind him. He didn’t need to hide El because, despite his drunkenness, Will would never hurt his sister.

But it's hard to carry on with this thought when Will walks in front of them and directs El what may be considered his best look of rage.

"That's your fault." Will says suddenly and there is a surprising amount of venom in his voice. "This is all your fault! It's all your fault!"

Everyone, except El, seemed surprised by the accusation. In spite of the hurt that smears her features, the tears that begin to appear in her eyes, it is clear she is not shocked by his brother's words; hurt but not shocked.

"The Demogorgon is your fault, I have gone to the inverted world is your fault." He points the bottle toward El. "Everything that happens bad is your fault, Eleven. Everything."

"Will" Nancy tries to get Will's attention, tries to get him to shut up. "Leave your sister alone, she had a difficult day and needs to ..."

"SHE'S NOT MY SISTER!" Will screamed and he had never looked so unbalanced as at that moment. "It is not far from or my sister. We don’t have the same blood, not the same mother. My mother is not your mother. My brother, Jonathan, is not your brother. Nothing is mine is yours, Eleven."

El, who had had no reaction other than shivering and crying silently, hears everything in silence and Mike can’t accept it. She can’t just stand there listening to Will's drunken nonsense without saying a word; she has to say something ... Swearing, talk back, muttering, anything.

To Mike's annoyance, she did nothing but continue accepting Will's insults in silence.

"Do you know why Hopper is in the hospital? For your fault. It's your fault that your father is in the hospital." He staggers closer to El and this gives Mike a chance to smell the alcohol odor he exhales. "Your father is in the hospital ... The man you never called a father is in the hospital..."

Will's words were not addressed to Mike, but that didn’t stop them from reaching him deeply and making him completely unbelieving. It was hard to believe that the one he was talking about was his friend, the same boy Mike had met on the first day of kindergarten.

He turned his eyes back to El just in time to see her tilt her head to the side. At first it seemed strange, but when Will collapsed on the floor, completely powerless, the movement finally gained meaning.

"You didn’t say anything I didn’t already know, Will." El mutters under her breath, her arms around herself.

No one speaks for a few seconds, El's voice reverberating through the room until the next sound he hears is that of his hurried footsteps upstairs and then the noise of the bedroom door being slammed shut.

Mike wants to go after her, wants to comfort her because she's frail and needs him right now, but ... But he also wants to help Will, who despite having just destroyed his heart, is still the guy who grew up with him. El usually likes to be alone when she's sad, but being alone after hearing everything that Will has poured over her is not right, El had already spent so much time alone, she had already suffered alone trapped in a laboratory ...

Thinking about El, a little Eleven as young as six, curled up in a dark little room, crying alone was what made Mike know that it was more than right to go after her. Mike could no longer allow her to be alone with her sorrows.

"I'm going after her." He announced ceaselessly to wait for answers. He didn’tneed anyone's approval, he just needed to stay with him.

Mike is quite sure he heard the thud of El's bedroom door being closed, everyone had heard this, which is why he is in shock when, after running up there, he finds her half-open. It is an invitation, but, above all, a call for help.

Pushing the door open is easy, closing it behind is equally easy; the only thing that is not easy for Mike is to see the little ball of sadness that has become his girlfriend. El is curled up in bed, hugging the old teddy bear Mike had given her when they were thirteen, silent tears staining her face.

The teddy bear is set aside when El, looking like a small child, raises her arms in a silent embrace. Mike didn’t hesitate to comply with her request because, after all, not only did she need a hug. He needed her, too.

But it was definitely not his turn to whine. It was El's turn. She needed to talk and be comforted. She needed support.

Mike knew he was throwing words in the wind when El, very gently, pulled away from him and picked up a small red box that was hidden from the side of her bed. The little wrinkle of frustration between her eyebrows as she rummaged through the red box and the constant stream of tears indicated a mixture of uncontrollable sadness and arduous resignation.

"Will didn’t mean it" He said watching how El was unmoved by any of his words. "He would never say that in his right mind, El, you know that, right?"

El looses a low and unpleasant giggle of disdain that makes Mike's heart wilt like a newly pierced inflatable ball. Mike doesn’t like it when El is disdainful; she doesn’t sound like herself, it sounds like someone cruel he doesn’t know.

"Yes, he meant it, Mike Every word, every cry;.... It was all true There were words of a drunkard, were his words He means it for months and apparently only managed to pluck up courage boozing The alcohol is the fuel of the lazy and cowardly." El separates cotton, antiseptics, some dressings and disposes them on the pink bedspread. She has a dexterity that surprises Mike. "But, hey, I'm not crying for Byers, I'm not going to waste my tears on him, I'm crying over my father, not Byers."

He doesn’t lose the way El calls Will by his surname, as if he were a stranger, or as the voice and her hands tremble uncontrollably.

"El" He took a deep breath and immediately felt his cheek throb. Ted had really hit him hard. "You can’t do that."

"And with 'do this' to what exactly you mean, Mike?" Her lips made a sad curl into what must have been the saddest of the smiles Mike had ever seen. "I'm just separating what it takes to clean these his injuries. This thing on his brow may become infected, you know? Here, let me clean."

He leaned forward slightly, enough that El to catch up and begin to take care of what she called the "injuries". It was no big deal, just a future bruise on the cheek and a cut above the eyebrow, but El was so determined to take care of what Mike didn’t want to counteract. He just closed his eyes and resigned himself to El's care.

After five minutes filled with careful murmurs and barely suppressed sobs, Mike could no longer stand the silence and opened his eyes. Even knowing that El was too shaken to absorb anything that was said, he needed to say something. He was there to talk to her and that's what he was going to do.

"You know everything's going to be okay, is not it? Your father is going to leave the hospital, he's going to return to policing us as usual, your brother will stop being an idiot, your powers will normalize ... Things will be fine, El, I promise. "

El hesitated in the movement of storing the medication and this gave Mike a chance to grab her hand and pull her close. It was not exactly a conversation, Mike was talking and she was listening, but it was a start. She was paying attention and that was enough.

Now all he needed to do was convince her that he was telling the truth.

"Do you believe me, El, do you think things will be okay?" She denied it, a brief, almost imperceptible nod that hurt Mike. "Why you don’t believe me? Have I ever lied to you, have I broken any of my promises?"

"No, you never lied or broke a promise." Her voice failed, and when she came back it was even lower than usual. "It's not that I do not trust you, Mike, I ... I can’t have that positivity, Mike. I can’t think of anything going to work out."

A victory: she was talking about.

"Why can’t you think things will work out?" He patted her hand fondly. "Can you explain to me, El?"

"Whenever I try to do that, be positive ... My chest tightens, I can’t breathe or think straight. It's like there's something or someone holding me back from thinking positively, a magnet pulling me down." El lets out a low, aching sob that is followed by two others. "I'm trying to be strong like Hopper, Mike, I've tried doing it all day, but it's hard, you know? I'm not strong like him."

He suppressed the laughter of disdain that bubbled in the back of his throat. Was El really saying that, that she was not strong? It was kind of a joke, right? She could only be joking. From the moment he'd met Eleven, from the moment he'd laid eyes on the little girl with the shaved head and hospital clothes, Mike had not managed to stop thinking about how strong and brave she was.

But she was not kidding, El usually didn’t play with that sort of thing. Her serious essence had not completely abandoned her for her to laugh or play with herself, especially when she was sad.

Without thinking twice about whether he was being corny or not, Mike takes both hands to El's face and makes her look him in the eye. Nothing to look away and pretend to mind the drugs; he wanted her to look him in the eye as he spoke, to feel and see the truth.

"El, you know how many people would have gone mad if they had had the same childhood you? How many people would have given up if they had to go through everything you went? Monsters, Demogorgon, The Upsidown, those scientists motherfuckers, Brenner, your mother..." He stroked El's face, careful to be gentle in doing so. She was strong, but she could hide it very well in that small body in those brown eyes so full of innocence and pain. "No one would have borne this whole shit, El. Anyone else would have gone crazy with all this shit, while you stood up straight. And now you tell me you're not strong? You're the strongest person I know. There is no one as strong as you, El, so please stop comparing yourself to your father and look at yourself. "

He leaned his forehead against hers because .... Because he needed to feel the warmth of El's skin, he needed to have her closer to him because now the distance between them, no matter how many inches, seemed unbearable.

"Listen to me carefully, El." He lowered his voice so it would not sound like he was scolding or fighting her. He just wanted to convince her, make her see things as he saw them. "Will is going to apologize as soon as he regained consciousness, so he stop acting like an asshole and start thinking clearly. Your father will be fine, soon he will be here filling our bag about leaving the door open room, those stupid rules we both abhor. We're going to help Ten, we'll be able to help him. And Brenner ... Let's beat him, okay? This is the last time we'll hear about this bastard. "

"Mike," she whispers and it hurts him to realize how fragile she sounds. "You promise..."

"I can promise you anything you want, El." And it was true. Nancy had mocked him once, saying that if El asked for the moon and the stars, he would find a way to give it to her. But why exactly would not he? El deserved anything she wanted, and if it were within his grasp, he would of course fulfill her wishes. "Anything, I promise you anything you want."

El's request never came. The only thing that came to Mike was the hot lips that slammed against his. El was kissing him and Mike definitely would not be opposing that. There was something different about that kiss, something different about him and her.

She couldn’t contain a grunt as El intensified the kiss, her hands, cold as ice, sank into his hair and pulled them. She was being delicate and at the same time voracious, something he feared he would never be able to be. There was a fine line between these two attitudes and Mike really couldn’t stay on that line; or he was one thing or he was another.

A hand from Mike, not even stopping to wonder if it was being overly invasive or libertine, slid from the waist to El's hips. He pulled her closer, not believing that the closeness that existed between them was enough.

They both knew that things would not go much further than that, at least not that night. Mike was not rejecting El, and when she laid her head against his shoulder, he knew she was not rejecting him either. They were respecting each other. The two had had a hell of a day and there was not enough weather for them to do it.

In the end, the two lie in bed, hugging each other, completely clothed and without any suggestion that they would do otherwise. El was too cozy for Mike to want to get away from her.

"Mike?" El called softly, her voice full of sleepy seriousness. "Why did he do it to you? Why did you let him hurt you?"

Mike knew that El was referring to his father, he couldn’t be someone else.

"My mother asked for the separation, El, she finally got the guts to do it." He counted on pulling her closer to him. "He was furious, and when he heard me saying that I was going to stay in the hospital with you, he decided he was forbidding me."

El, who was about to fall asleep, was shaken by the statement. He could almost feel the guilt beginning to circulate in her veins. Not again.

"I said you should not have to go to the hospital." She moans loudly, guiltily. "I knew this would cause you trouble."

"It was not your fault, El. I decided to go to the hospital on my own." He kissed the top of her head. "He was going to find another excuse to hit me, he just wanted to take some of the anger out on someone, and guess what, it ended up being left for me, but it's all okay, because before I do Holly or my mother."

He kissed El's curls one more time and being busy doing this was good because it prevented him from making a stupid noise when, after a long silence, she spoke again.

"I love you, Mike."

They had been dating for three years, but it was the first time that 'I love you' had surfaced in their relationship. Those were the three words that led a couple's relationship to a new level.

Mike froze, his lips still against her brown curls, his breath frozen. It was not that he was not ready to say that to El, or that he didn’t feel the same for her, it's just that ... Mike didn’t want to disappoint her, not when his father had disappointed his mother.

El laughed softly, sleepily. It was good to hear her laugh, soothing enough to make his heart thaw and beat again. Her face was hidden in Mike's chest, so it was not possible to see the expression she was sketching.

"You don’t have to say you love me, Mike. Your parents are breaking up and it's understandable that you can’t reciprocate my words." She snuggled closer to him. "But I needed to tell you that, okay? I told you why I needed to talk and not why I want to force you to talk."

 _But I want to talk_ , Mike thinks by squeezing El's body. _I want you to know by my mouth how much I love you._

"El, I ..."

"I know, okay, Mike? I know what you feel and I know you definitely can’t say it to me today. I understand.” El sighs and Mike can tell, by his slowing words, that she is almost succumbing to sleep. "Can you sleep with me here today?" A long pause. "Please, Mike, I really do not want to be alone."

The abrupt change of direction in their conversation is not surprising to Mike, though he greatly disappoints him. He wants to say 'I love you', wants to use those three words to express what he feels for El. He loves her, he has no shadow of doubt about it, but putting everything out is ... It's still scary.

El doesn’t seem disappointed, not by far. She just waits for him to respond, let him tell her whether or not she's staying for the night with her. The answer is obvious, but that doesn’t make the expectation that her body exhales diminish. Mike just can’t get away from her or refuse an application from El, especially when she sounded so frail and hurt.

Without saying a word and also without departing from his girlfriend, he finds a way to cover both of them with the flowery, warm blanket El keeps in bed. He knows that by the laws of physics it is impossible for them to get any closer than that, but that doesn’t stop them from trying.

"Night, Mike." El let go and it's the first time that day he sees her so in peace.

"Night, El."

These are not the last words he releases for his already asleep girlfriend. He needs to try those three words, he must tell El, even if she's already asleep.

"I love you" It looses at once and is surprisingly easy and enjoyable. Liberator. "I love you."

Those words set him free and make Mike make a decision: no matter what El says, he's ready to tell her that he loves her and will tell her that as soon as she wakes up the next morning.

"I love you I love you..."

Mike continues to repeat that, unable to stop himself. It is impossible to stop yourself now that he has been able to speak the truth. He can only stop repeating that when the bedroom door loosens a low grunt delivering someone's arrival. For a brief and delirious moment, he thinks it is Will, that he came to apologize to El. But it was not Will, not from afar.

Ten stands in the doorway, his blue eyes studying the two teenagers lying on the bed. He looked better wearing the old clothes that had been tidied up for him. It almost seemed less menacing. Almost. Mike still didn’t trust him.

"How?" Ten hesitated a little at the words he should use. "How is she?"

"Sleeping" He caressed El's curls jealously, worried that looking directly at Ten might be making him shy. "She was very tired. And sad."

The other nodded, a frown between his eyebrows as he pointed to Mike's face. Many people would point to his face in the next few days.

"Oh, that? It was my father." He suppressed the desire to shrug, to do what he would remember. "Nothing much. My parents are separating, you know. I think he will leave the house, go away with a woman here in Hawkins. Whatever, it's not as if we were dependent on it, as if we couldn’t touch our lives without his presence. My mother is a nurse, she can work in the hospital. I can get a part-time job to help with the house expenses and we will have to hire a nanny to Holly, because she is too small to be alone, but. .. I think in the end everything will be okay."

"Okay?" Ten stammered, and the way he did it reminded Mike, vaguely, of how El repeated the words and phrases as they had met. With El the whole thing had been cute, with Ten it was just weird and painful. "Why?"

He smelled the scent of El's brown hair, not knowing why he was telling it all to Ten. He didn’t like the other boy, even trusted him, but that didn’t stop him from talking.

On the other hand, it was a relief to be putting that out, the expectations of the future that would have been without Ted Wheeler infecting his life. Unlike his girlfriend, Mike didn’t like to keep anything to himself; regardless of whether it is joy or sadness.

"I'm guessing, right? My dad's going to leave the house, I think, and that makes it all happen for me. I have my mother, my sisters, my friends, and El, there's no way things can go wrong." Mike didn’t look at Ten as he spoke, focused on the sleeping girl who was hugging him. "My mother says that nothing can get you down when the people you love are on your side. The people I love are on my side, so I know that everything will work out."

"Do you like her? My sister, Eleven, do you like her?"

He should have noticed how well Ten had formed that phrase, how she didn’t hesitate as he had been doing or as El had done when she had not yet completely mastered the words. He didn’t notice and later regretted not having done so.

"If I like her? Dude, I would jump off a cliff if her happiness was to be guaranteed. I love her with all the strength I have. I really love her, I have no doubts about that. I think I've loved her since I met her, when we were twelve." Mike stated admiring the chestnut with passionate eyes."Everything always looks good when she's on my side."

He didn’t bother to look again at Ten, not even when he got up from the room and left the room. Ten was not important, it was not Mike who made Mike's eyes shine and his heart pound; this was the effect that El exerted on him. El, just her.

Mike couldn’t turn his eyes away from El, there was something, that feeling that was twisting his insides, which prevented him from doing so. It was as if it was the last time Mike would have the chance to stare at her, touching her for a long time.


	11. On your knees before the worst monster that can exist on the face of the earth

 

December 17, 1987

 

_The explosion of events around Mike is what causes him not to see the blow that hits him, that he just feels it. Holly is crying, Lucas and Dustin are trying to contain Will's exaltation, his mother is trying to appease the fury of her future ex-husband and Ted is close enough to Mike to surprise him._

_And Ted surprises him._

_Before Mike finds out he's already on the ground, his face pounding with pain, his mind clouded. He is still reasoning, digesting the fact that his father hit him, when the second blow hits him and makes him stay on the ground. Mike has a history with bullies and knows that it is never good to try to get up when a bully hangs over him like the shadow of death. Ted Wheeler is a bully._

_"MY SON!" He hears his mother screaming, his voice bordering on panic. "MY SON, THEODORE! DON’T HURT MY CHILD!"_

_Screams and more screams echo. Holly, Dustin, Lucas, his mother and even Will; everyone is screaming and this time their screams are all for the same reason, the same person._

_There is a third blow, this hard and sharp enough to make a thin trickle of blood run from Mike's forehead. He can’t contain a low moan, but he also can’t regret saying that it was fantastic that his mother had finally decided to file the divorce papers. Why repent? It was true._

_The fourth blow (which is on the way, because Ted's fury can’t be contained easily) never comes. Mike opens his eyes (when he had them closed?) And is shocked to see his father lying on the floor and Nancy, blue eyes outlined with black eyed pencil, holding the remains of a Chinese vase above his own head. It's over._

 

Mike woke up with something curiously nudging his face. Nudging, more specifically, where there were probably formed an ugly bruise on hand so. The touch of the person was light, there was no evil in him, but there was also no softness or hesitation; It was careless, almost childlike.

He grunted as he poked a second time. It was as if the person was testing the depth of the pain that could be caused by his act, testing to gauge the seriousness of what marked Mike's face. Ellie could not be the owner of those nudges, the care she'd given him the night before had made it very clear that she had fairy-like hands (nurse's hands, his mother would say) as far as cares for injuries were concerned. But then, who was doing it and why, in the name of God, was it so persistent?

He opened his eyes and immediately felt his bad mood being swept away from him as he came face to face with a little innocent blue-eyed little girl and bright blond braids adorned with pink ribbon bows.

"Good morning, Mickey." She smiled, displaying a small gap resulting from the fall of one of her milk teeth. "You slept in a girl's bed, you know that?"

"Holly!" He said sitting on the bed and pulling the girl into a tight hug. "God, Holly ..."

With the irritation of minutes ago forgotten in the past, Mike began to examine his sister carefully. There was no visible scratch or bruise on the girl's fair skin, nothing to indicate that she had been on the same roof as Ted Wheeler.

On second thought, technically, she had not even been on the same roof as their father. After the little show that Ted had made Mike manage next to him (and that would certainly have given the boy at least four painful weeks), he had made sure to leave Holly at one of his friends.

"You’re okay, Holls? What you’re doing here?" He studied the girl minutely. "The Avertt said you could stay there all day without a problem, was there a problem?" I knew I should not trust them, especially Mrs. Avertt with that Cruela de Vil face she has. "

"I don’t like Cruela, Mike, can we stop talking about her?" Holly shuddered out of his embrace. "And she did not do anything, okay? Nancy came to get me, she said she wanted to stay with me longer."

Holly turned her big blue eyes in exasperation at the name of her older sister. His little sister was growing up very fast, but mostly he was not learning to forgive and accept the choices of others and that needed his change. To this day she had not accepted the fact that Nancy had gone to New York with Jonathan, that she had left them in Hawkins to attend college away from them and the problems surrounding them.

"Holly," he snapped, using the best older brother's tone of voice he could mimic. "We've already talked about your attitude to Nance. You can’t do that to her, you can’t keep doing that."

"Cut it out, Mike!" She crossed her arms over her chest, petulant posture. "Can we leave the sermon for later?"

He arched an eyebrow at her tone. God, Holly would certainly have caused a lot of headaches for their mother during her teenage years. Mike already imagined her running away from home in the middle of the night (just as Nancy did), at school wearing cheerleading outfits (why she would surely be getting into it), but at the moment she was still the good old Holly who clearly was asking for a sermon.

"No, we can’t, Holland Wheeler." He pointed to the bed. "Now you're going to sit and listen to me without saying a single word. No complaints or ugly faces. If I knew you were going to be boring, I wouldn’t have woken you up. You're so boring today."

"Excuse me, Holly? What part of any complaint did you not understand?" He felt himself feeling a monster for acting so hard. "Now, please sit down, that's it or a month without going to the arcade with me, you choose."

He probably sounded like an adult, but it did not really bother him since he had had some use to use that tone of voice; Holly, though heavily pushed, sat down beside him on the bed.

"Are we really having this conversation, Holly? Again?" He ran his hand through his hair. "This is what? The tenth time?"

"We wouldn’t be having this conversation if Nance had not abandoned us." Holly retorted stubbornly. "You wouldn’t be all hurt if she had stayed here in Hawkins with us. Dad wouldn’t have hurt you because she would have protected you. Things wouldn’t have gone bad if she had stayed here in Hawkins."

Mike could almost hear Will's voice echoing inside his head. This is all your fault, Eleven! He could not handle it. First Will blaming El and now Holly blaming Nance. He definitely wouldn’t be dealing with that shit a second time.

"Nance is not guilty of our problems, Holly. And even if she had stayed here in Hawkins, those things would have happened." He scanned the blonde. "She saved me, Holly. You saw what his father did last night, if not for the Nance I'd probably be in a worse state than I am now. Our sister saved me, Holl's."

He paused, his mind fixed on what would have been his if Nancy had not interfered. What would Ted have done to him?

"We're all going to leave Hawkins, Holly. Nance was the first of us and you really can’t blame her for that." He nudged the younger girl. "You're going to leave Hawkins and I'm going too. We're not going to stay here."

"But..."

"She had to follow her path, Holly, she followed her path, but she did not disappear from our lives or she's going to do it." Nance is here now, is not she? Mike rolled his eyes when the girl did not say anything. "Do you understand, golden dots, or did I spend all my time talking to the walls?"

"Got it, Mickey." Holly answered reluctantly. "I think I ... I'll talk to Nancy, but only later."

All right, enough of the big hangman. Without warning, she started tickling Holly's slim belly. She was already seven, but still succumbed to a fit of tickling like never before. Such an attack always had a glorious effect on Holly's mood.

But apparently not on that day. The events of the night before had really impressed her, Mike realized that when Holly accidentally touched his face and, as if he had touched a charcoal, he quickly turned away.

"It does not hurt, Holls" Reassured the blonde. "Not as much as you think. I had a great nurse last night."

Holly did not believe it and Mike did not have to find arguments for it since Nancy's sudden entry was the lifesaver of the justifications he would create under pressure. Their sister, tall and blonde, walked into the room in complete disarray. She carried a large backpack and a suitcase in her hands. She looked awkward.

The older blonde smiled at the two observers, ignoring the curiosity of the two younger ones.

"Clothes and other personal material you country, Mike." She threw the bag and the backpack on the floor. "Mom and Joyce agreed that you'd better sleep in here, and of course in the next few days it would be preferable for you to do it in Will's room, and as a matter of curiosity, you missed the day of school. Holly, Will and El too"

That does not upset him, not when Mike even had plans to attend school and endure the looks of the students and teachers. If it was school today, he knew it wouldn’t be good old Michael Wheeler, the frog-faced nerd; would be the Wheelers 'son, the boyfriend of Hawkins' Sheriff's daughter. The people who would commonly ignore him would approach him for information about Hopper's health or whether the Wheelers were actually separating.

Mike did not want to be the center of attention and was happy to have time to spare.

"Fuck off." He looked at the bedspread adorned with flowers and remembered something that should have disturbed him initially: El's absence. "Hey, do you know where El?"

Before he can get a chance to start a series of highly hasty conclusions, Nance decides it's time to fulfill his role as big sister and start pestering him.

"She ran away after your hot night, stallion?" Nancy smirked. "I guess the night was not as hot as she'd hoped, was it?"

"What-what? Hot night? What a hot night? We just fell asleep. I slept, she slept."

Stirring in the large backpack and separating a set of men's clothing, Nancy let out a discredited giggle.

"So what's this on your neck, little brother?" She threw the clothes over him with disdain. "Did you accidentally fall on him?"

"I want to have a hot night, too." Holly murmured naively, her blue eyes fixed on the older brother's neck. "I want a hot night, but I don’t want a bruise on my neck. Is it purple, Mike, and why does it have the shape of a mouth?"

"You're not going to have a warm night so early, Holly, don’t depend on me." He turned his attention to Nancy. "And if I were you, I'd be careful, okay? I know all your rotten, Steve told me everything."

"Tell me, Mike," Nancy continued, ignoring him. "You protected yourself, didn’t you? The sheriff would kill you if his little girl got pregnant at the age of 16. You used ..."

"I'm not going to have this conversation with you, Nancy! I'd rather die than have this conversation with you!"

He rushed toward the bathroom El room, his face on fire. After spending forty minutes stuck inside the little pink world that was El's bathroom, after a long bath where he tried to clean not only the bodily dirt but also emotional (Ted had actually tagged him), Mike finally created the courage to get out of the bathroom.

Still believing that Nancy and Holly were in the bedroom, she went out using a towel to dry her hair and, mostly, to hide the dark blush on her face. It was uncomfortable to hear Nancy hint at the advances in his relationship with El, that is, it was not as if she had not done anything worse. Oh, Nance had done much worse, she thought, remembering the time when Steve had invaded his sister's room in the middle of the night.

Away the face towel and was surprised to find Ellie, cross-legged in an extremely interesting way, looking at him with her bright brown eyes. She looks less unhappy than she had the night before, and if Mike was bold enough, he would even say she almost seemed excited about something.

"I woke up and you were not here." He pointed out the obvious, his hands waving nervously on the towel. "I got worried."

Ellie tilted her head to the side, her brown curls glittering as she watched him, and probably thought of something beyond his comprehension. It was very common for this to happen, and Mike usually didn’t object to it since it gave him the privilege of observing her as he pleased, without being interrupted or made a joke.

She looked beautiful, as if her beauty, in the short time they'd been apart, had grown larger. El was wearing a dark green jacket over a white winter dress, her legs, still crossed, were covered with black trousers and boots.

"El" He leaned back against the wall, forced casual posture. "Did something happen while I was sleeping? Any news in your father's condition?"

El's red lips immediately curled into a smile of contentment. It's bright and charming, a smile that Mike is sure not even time will be able to erase from his memory. Best of all, the smile indicated that something good had happened.

"Jonathan took me to the hospital to visit my father." Ellie got up from the bed, her fingers smoothing her dress with care. "He woke up last night, Mike. Is aware, talked to me and everything. It was transferred to a room and may be discharged tomorrow. The doctor said it was a miracle, you know, his recovery. The bullet had lodged in a really difficult place and he had lost a lot of blood. But now he's fine. "

"Fantastic, El. I'm really happy for you, your father is tough, but he's a great guy ..."

Before he could finish the sentence Ellie had already pushed him against the wall, her delicate lips pressed against his. It was the second time she'd surprised him with a kiss like that, but it was not like he was going to oppose that kind of reaction either. Her touch, even over the thick jacket he wore, was warm. It was as if she were burning him just by touching him.

Guided by the heat that set him on fire, Mike squeezed her waist and shifted. Now it was she who was against the wall, he who was in control and who would try not to ruin all that moment. A hand of Mike slid to El's hip so he could steady her closer to him.

They separated for a few seconds, enough to breathe, pull air into their lungs, and resume the fervent kiss they had begun. El, who was kissing him with his mouth open, gasped softly as Mike's lips moved away from hers and began to trail a path of fire toward her throat.

 ** _I love you, I love you, I love you ..._** Mike is not sure if he's actually saying that or if the words are still stuck inside his mind. The only thing he's sure of is that he wants that moment to last forever, that nothing has power enough to separate them. Why go back to the real world, where anyone can hurt you, when you fear you can stay in El's arms for the rest of the day?

He can’t contain the displeasure that fills him when El, searching for air, has moved away from him. Her face is painted with blush and contentment, a combination that only makes Mike want to start a new kiss.

She, as happens most of the time in their relationship, takes the lead again. A new kiss, this time calmer and really less voluptuous than the previous one. There is something beyond desire and lust in this kiss, there is a feeling that causes a comforting warmth. Know when you are walking on the street during a harsh winter and finally comes in the heat of your home. Well, it was the heat Mike was feeling.

Of course that was the right time to say the three words that had made him freeze the night before. He could and should do it.

"El, I lo..."

"Can you hold this for five seconds?" She interrupts him by kissing his lips quickly and quickly. "I have to give you something, I swear it's fast and then you can tell me what you want."

It's not unusual for El to interrupt him, and usually when she does, it's because it's really important. So just for this, Mike swallows his own words and, separating himself from El, waits to see what she has for him.

What Mike, who is now sitting on El's bed, does not expect is that she throws at him two decorated notebooks, a black walkman and a small golden flower-shaped clasp. Her diaries, the walkman Jonathan had given her on her fifteenth birthday and her favorite clip. The material things she was most zealous for.

It's a little disappointing, he has to admit. They interrupted what was happening, El prevented him from saying the three words to throw his things over him. It was disappointing and intriguing.

"El?" He studied the cover of the most recent diary, the wine-colored cape that was ornamented with drawings of hand-made gold and silver flowers. "Why you’re giving me these things?"

"Yesterday you said you would do anything for me." She teased the hair ornament, avoiding his eyes at all costs. "Is that still standing or did you just say that to calm me down?"

"Of course not, El!" He answered quickly, a twinge of outrage in his voice as he realized she had doubted him. "I don’t go back on my word. I don’t break my promises."

This time El laughed and, still avoiding looking at him, separated in two piles the objects he had thrown over him. In one the old violet glossy diary next to the hair ornament and the other, already on Mike's lap, the diary which he had been able to use most recently and the Walkman.

"I want you to do something for me, right? I want you to promise that you will do this, that you will do exactly what I am telling you." A pause. "You promise?"

Something about El's seriousness made Mike not hesitate. Did she want him to promise? He would promise her, whatever it was. I mean, it was not as if El, the sweet daughter of Sheriff Hopper, was asking him to commit some crime.

"Promise." He tried to smile quietly to soothe tempers it. It didn’t help.

"This is not all for you and it's not any kind of gift either.” She sighed, her face paling alarmingly. "This diary you're holding, I want you to keep it and my Walkman. You can play my Walkman, but my diary ... Move it on tomorrow, just tomorrow, Mike."

"You’re asking me to read your diary?" He raised an eyebrow at El. He was not mocking her, just trying to relax. "Is this serious, El? Do you really want me to read your diary?"

"Only tomorrow, Mike. You will know where to start reading, it will be obvious. Just you can read, okay? You can talk to people about what you read, but never allow them to read." She looked at him intensely. "I'm trusting you, Mike, I completely trust you."

To say it was confusing would be euphemism. Absolutely nothing that El was talking or doing had any meaning or could have. Mike was not like the other boys, the ones who would kill to steal his girlfriend's diary to know all her secrets; this cheap fetish of stupid boy who wants to discover the secrets of his girlfriend didn’t run in his veins.

Seeing her acting so strangely causes a sudden urge to embrace Ellie to take him completely. He wants to hug her like he did last night, kneading her against him until he is sure that nothing will hurt her. But Mike can’t do that, he knows El will not let him do it before sunset. During the day, Ellie plays hard and only at night does she feel the sadness she feels (or, as happens most of the time, when she can’t bear to keep everything to herself); Mike knows her well enough to know that this is how things work in Ellie Jane Hopper's world.

"I know I sound crazy, but later on, everything I'm saying will make sense. I promise." She reassures him, a hand over his hand. "That diary and the walkman are yours _until I come back_. Take care of them. The other diary is Will's. The same terms I told you are good for him.”

"Nothing to read until tomorrow?" Repeated.

"The rest, in both diaries, will be explained on the last page, in your case, on the penultimate page written since the last one itself has something else."

Doubts buzzed in Mike's mind, but there was something in particular that had caught his attention, something that El had just said. _Until I come back_. Where was she going?

Mike's eyes immediately closed when El, gently, stroked his face with both hands. Her touch, no doubt soothing, was gentle enough that his face wouldn’t throb so he would drop the doubt and let himself be carried by it. There were no more questions he wanted to ask, not while she was touching him so gently.

"El" He whispered her name, the girl that it had had on him an intoxicating effect. "Why you’re doing this, why you’re giving me these things?"

The careful touch of El didn’t cease, only became more intense and intoxicating.

"You'll understand at the right time, Mike. Don’t be rushed." The brief sound of a sigh echoes through her lips. "That will help us a lot."

"If you're saying, El." Mike hesitates for a moment, uncertain about what he's about to say. "Will, why don’t you give yourself up for all this? You know, so you could try to get back at him."

The careful touch of El is gone, she simply abandons it and Mike can’t help but moan. He and his big mouth.

But El is not upset with him, or at least that's what Mike can finish when he looks her in the eyes. There is no resentment or sadness in El's dark eyes, just regret and complicity. Mike knows her well enough to know that something is wrong with her, something that is disturbing her and that goes far beyond what happened to Will or Hopper; something that is out of his understanding.

"Mike," she says and his name never sounded so soft. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right? From everything that's happened to your parents to ... Anything, anytime, anyplace. Anywhere, really, I'll always be listening to you. "

"I know I can talk to you, El. But what can I talk about?" He shrugged, the laid-back relaxed stance that wouldn’t fool even a four-year-old. "I'm happy. I've long waited for this to happen, for my father to leave home, for him to leave us in peace."

The gleam in El's eyes changed from grief to grief.

"Oh, Mike," she whined softly, more to herself than to himself. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? Why can’t you simplify things for yourself?"

"El, of course I'm telling the truth." He tried to steal a kiss from her and found himself grumbling at being rejected. "Really, Ellie? No kisses? Am I so unworthy of you like this?"

El cover the mouth to stifle a laugh.

"No, no, Wheeler, you've ruined the weather."

She nods at him, but does not dwell on it. She just kisses him again (a hummingbird kiss: light and fast) before dragging him downstairs to find food for both of them. There is no one there; Will, Nancy, Holly or Ten. No one, they're both alone.

Despite El's comforting and warm presence beside him, though things are clearly heading toward the good winds, there is still something that bothers Mike tremendously. He does not know what it is, but while helping Ellie prepare Eggos, he tries to throw out what he is. There comes his mind, no warning of danger or anything like that; just the bad feeling that wrapped his stomach.

The bad feeling makes Mike's paranoia grow to the point that he is startled to hear the bell ring. El does not have a reaction as exaggerated as his, but neither does he seem very happy when he leaves the Eggos and goes to answer the door. Without knowing why, Mike picks up one of the little kitchen knives they were using and hides it behind them (it's a tiny thing, it wouldn’t hurt anyone).

The knife hidden behind him sounds like a huge nonsense when El accompanied by a pious Nissa Puckett. The other girl dresses in her usual tight clothes, but there's something menacing hanging around her that makes Mike hide the knife in the back pocket of his jeans. Nissa was not a threat, but being abandoning the knife, the only defense option he had, was not something to be considered.

"I was worried when you didn’t show up at school today." She had been saying to him. "I thought something happened."

El arched an eyebrow at the girl, the defensive posture.

"My father is in the hospital."

"My parents are getting divorced." Mike added involuntarily. "So, yes, something happened."

"Oh my God, guys, I'm so sorry for you." Nissa said, but the smile on her lips said otherwise. "My condolences, guys."

"Nobody's dead, Nissa." He corrects the girl and can swear to hear a 'still' echo through the house. "Did you say anything?"

"No, no, no. No way, Michael."

Mike didn’t lose the way she appraised every corner of the Byers-Hopper house, as her dark eyes searched every little detail of the place. Maybe Max was really right about Nissa, maybe she really was not a good person, maybe there was something wrong with her.

"You’re alone?" Nissa questioned now evaluating El from head to toe. "There's no one here but you two?"

"Yes," El replied quickly. "But we're already leaving."

"Come on, Jane, what's the hurry?" The blonde girl pulled out a chair and sat down sloppily, her legs spread out on the table. "That way you look like you're not happy to see me."

El's eyes became two brown slits as she narrowed them.

"It looks like you were getting ready for coffee, but that my arrival completely changed those plans." Nissa pointed to the table. "You don’t want me to stay here, Jane? Don’t you like me? Michael, I don’t think your girlfriend likes me."

Mike just grabs El's hand.

"Obviously this is not ..."

"I want you out of my house, Nissa." El hissing echoes through the residence. "I want you out of here. No, we really want some privacy, you understand? We want to get a little peace and you are not contributing to it, Nissa."

Mike's shock lingers along with the silence. Nissa has no reaction to that. Anything. She does not look at all irritated while playing with the bracelets on her wrist and begins to push them away.

"You already know, right? I think I've figured it out. Well, that makes everything simpler." Nissa smiles. "Jane, if I were you, I wouldn’t be so stubborn. You know what's best."

"Out of my house."

"But your boyfriend does not know anything, the poor thing is so confusing. Look at him, Jane, and tell me if you prefer it well, with a lovely silly, or being the old wise guy nerd ever."

Stunned, not understanding what's going on between the two girls, Mike watches El let go of his hand and move forward on Nissa's arm.

"Out of my house!" El growled as he towed the other toward the door. "Out of my life, fucking bitch."

"Let me go!" Nissa growls briefly in response to the step that unravels the touch of Mike's girlfriend. "I know very well where the exit is ..."

"Then get out of here. Your presence is not welcome!"

"And, conveniently, there's someone out there that I want to introduce to both of you." Nissa's smile widens. "I think you're going to like him, especially you, Jane. I told you about my father and he really wants to meet you."

"Don’t you dare, you bloody hell-hen ..."

But Nissa is already advancing toward the front door, and El, looking like an animal in her arms, backs away from him. Despite his angry words toward another girl, she shakes from head to toe.

Mike wraps his arms around her, still not understanding what is happening. Well, it all gets terribly clearer and obvious when Nissa opens the door and reveals a tall man with hair as white as snow.

Brenner.

 


	12. Two hearts marked and cut by the blade of fear

 

December 17, 1987

 

White hair, dark black suit and tailor made, glossy social shoes, arrogant face marked by a long three whitish lines, cold blue eyes, stiff lips and austere posture.

Time has not passed for Brenner, this is clear and painful for Mike. As he and El grew up, they ceased to be two small children, the damned bastard continued to look the same as the two teenagers remembered. It was still the same old man who had invaded the school in search of the girl who treated like a lab rat, it was still the same man who had deprived El of having a happy childhood.

Martin Brenner was there and there was no doubt about what he wanted. Mike pulls Ellie close to him, unable to think of anything but her protection. No, absolutely not. That bastard would not be taking her, he didn’t lean against for a curl of her hair even.

"This is my father, Jane and Mike." Nissa smiles as she lets Brenner into the house. "My papa, you know each other, don’t you?"

Papa ... Only the children of the laboratory, poor servants and under the venomous influence of Brenner, called that cursed by "papa". No one in their right mind or who has had a healthy childhood would dare call him that way.

Nissa is one of the children Brenner stole, but unlike what happened to Ellie, she could not see the evil in him. Nissa had been corrupted by Martin Brenner's words and she was here supporting him. But who was she? El had said that beyond it there were only three other experiments (to his knowledge): Eight, Nine and Ten. Eight had fled, Ten was there with them under the pretext of waiting for El to help him save ...

"Nine," Mike whispers to himself and El shivers in his arms. "She's the girl that Ten was looking for, El. She's with Brenner and it means that the Ten ..."

"It looks like the good old Michael Wheeler's a smartass is back." Nissa/Nine laughs and sound sounds sharp and irritating to Mike's ears. "Good, dear, you don’t look very interesting playing the idiot."

"Enough of that, Nine! Enough of this nonsense." Brenner commands with his voice silky and full of poison. God, like Mike ever wanted to hear his voice. "Just get it over with. You know it's not possible that we stay here long."

"But, Papa ..."

"Do what I'm talking about, Nine. Simple, quick, and without feeling."

The blonde complains one last time, and she’s silent suddenly, her blue eyes darker as she looks at them over the teenage couple. God, this was all a nightmare, right? It was all a nightmare because it was not possible that it was really happening, not with them. It could not be ...

But it was happening, that whole shit was really happening to them both. As much as Mike was reluctant to accept, the nightmare was real and life-threatening.

"I will not let him take you away from me, El." He states with conviction, his arms around the girl's body. "He will not take you away from me.

He feels she’s about to respond, that she, even standing before her worst executioner, is one step away from beginning to murmur words of consolation and comfort directed at him. But then it happens.

Mike's body starts to burn, the fire runs through his veins and sets him off in an excruciating and painful way. It looks like his blood was replaced by lava just emerging from an erupting volcano. The pain blinds him for a few seconds and it is a pain that nothing can be compared to the pain that Ted had inflicted on him during his angry bully attack. Nothing can match what he's feeling.

In the mist of pain, Mike is aware of everything that is going on around him. Ellie screaming, horrified, and holding him with her small hands before he fell face down to the floor, the horrifying sound that escapes his lips every ten seconds, Brenner's fixed, calculating stare, and the murderous, maniacal look of Nissa. Another thing Mike was aware of? It was that what was happening to him was not at all natural and was probably a work of Nissa.

The horrible feeling, if possible, becomes worse. Now the fire consumes him while the sensation of something sharp knocks him in the stomach. It was as if someone was stabbing him.

"Mike, Mike ..." El calls and her voice sounds distant and completely distorted. "What you’re doing to him? Stop hurting him!"

Mike allows a loud grunt to escape through his mouth. It hurts. It hurts so much. Dying hurts like this?

"He's already hurt too bad, stop making things worse!" His girlfriend screams, her kind hands caressing his face and somehow softening his pain for three seconds. Three seconds is the time interval between the cessation of pain and his next grunt. It hurts. Still hurts. "LEAVE US IN PEACE!"

El’s cry didn’t make the pain stop, though she be softened. The only great achievement that happens, even if in the background and that does not even affect them, is the clear splinter of glass and light and dry wood. Things are breaking in the face of Ellie's despair, the pain still runs through his veins.

El should be enjoying that moment, she should run away while the limelight was on him. She had to get out of there, get out from under Brenner's eyes and try to hide from him. Why was not she doing this?

"Please ... make his pain stop." She asks and this is wrong. El should not be asking Brenner or Nissa for anything; should be running away or being protected. "Please ... Stop hurting him ... Mike ... He didn’t do anything ... He never did anything wrong."

"He took you from us, Eleven. This boy made his head against us, set you against your true family." Brenner says softly and venomously. If he had not been blind in pain, Mike would probably have seen the venom trickling down the corner of Brenner's mouth. "This inconsequential child took advantage of your innocence to manipulate you, your family, the people who really care about you."

"SHUT THE MOUTH! YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPEAK SO MUCH OF MIKE! IT DOES NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO STAY HONOR OF HIM SAYING THESE HORRIBLE THINGS!"

"You know it's true, Eleven. You know what I'm saying is true, but you don’t, you don’t want to admit it." Brenner continues as though he had not interrupted him to yell at him. "This stupid kid is what makes you stay here, everyone knows that. You're so blind that you think he's good. He's become your weak spot, Eleven, and unfortunately I need to use it against you so we can come back to be a family. "

"My family is here. I already have a family that loves me, that accepts me and that I would never get hurt."

"True, Eleven? What can we say about your family? There's your aunt, who does not accept you, who can’t realize how great you are. Your adoptive father, Hopper, the man who took you to remedy the misfortune of having killed his biological daughter. Your brother, the younger Byers, who blames you for everything that happened in his life." Brenner says with conviction. "Is that your family, people who love you? Eleven, your family is us. All of us. We are together Eleven. Me, you, Ten, Eight and Nine. All together, as it always should have been. I forgive you for his disobedience. "

There is a moment of contemplative silence until the voice of El echoes.

"Fuck you, Brenner! Fucking liar." She growls hoarsely. "It's all a lie ... It's all a lie, the only thing that took advantage of me was you, you don’t love anyone, it's a monster and monsters don’t know how to love."

The burning makes Mike yell loudly and arch his body up. It hurts like hell. He should not be succumbing to the pain, he should be saving El from Brenner's toxic presence. El needs to be saved, but all he can do is agonize and moan.

"Wrong words, little sister."

"Stop, stop hurting him!" El's delicate hands pull him into her lap. "Stop it. He ... He does not deserve any of this. He's good, Nine, please stop hurting him."

"I've never seen such kindness in this young man, Jane. I've never received any kindness from him."

"You know, Eleven," Brenner reasserts himself, calm and cunning. El's hands are now on Mike's face and he can feel the desperate caresses she leaves there. "I taught you very early on that your actions have consequences. What's happening to the boy? It's your fault.”

Ellie let out a low lament over Mike's forehead. He can feel her breathing; tremulous and uncoordinated. My poor El, you need to save yourself ...

"I'm not doing anything. I would never hurt Mike."

"But you're hurting, Eleven, and you know how the pain he's feeling. You just have to decide."

The intense burning is still there, traversing Mike's veins, but he forces himself to ignore her (or at least tries) to then pay attention to what Brenner and Nissa are doing to him and El. There is a stake of interests there, a manipulation so obvious that it would be painful for him if Ellie was not realizing it either. They were using Mike as a distraction, as a way to fill her body with guilt until she’llingly went with them.

Brenner still wants El for himself, and even though he says he forgives her betrayal, who is implied in his soft words that she’ll not be retaliated for by her attitudes, Mike knows it's a lie. Martin Brenner is the type of bastard who does not forget and forgive anything; he just waits for the right time to get revenge on his target, El.

"Yeah, I know damn well how I can make Mike stop feeling." El says slowly and dangerously. "I can blow Nine's brains out. I can kill both you and her."

Mike knows that El can do that, Brenner also knows, but the difference between the two is that Mike is squirming in pain and Brenner and is laughing openly at the threat he has just received. He’s not intimidated by the tone of the girl who just threatened his life. Or he's too stupid, or psychotic to the point of seeing something that was not obvious to either of the two teenagers.

Shit! The second "or" was the most likely of all to take into consideration that Brenner really was a psychotic.

"However, Eleven, you have not done it yet." The accursed man says, and through his half-closed eyes, Mike can see him with an arrogant smile. "As they have manipulated you against me, they have set you against your pope to the point that you fear me, I know you didn’t for love. Fear is paralyzing you, it prevents you from using your powers."

"I'm not afraid of you or Nissa." El's arms pull Mike closer to her. "The only thing I feel for you is disgust."

But Mike can testify otherwise. Even under the damaging effect of whatever Nissa was doing to affect him, he could feel the way she was stiff and shaky. El, who had his arms around him and pressed him protectively against him, was shaking with fear.

"Fear controls you, Eleven." Footsteps echo around the house, and as he squeezes and growls like an animal, Mike deduces that Brenner approached them. "You are controlled by your feelings and that is a weakness that we can fix."

Mike wants to punch the face of this damn bastard, wants to do a multitude of things that would cause pain to the bastard, but he can’t move. The pain is getting harder and harder, more and more unbearable.

God, how he wanted not to be a dork nerd. For the first time in his life Mike wanted to be like Troy, James, and his father: big and strong enough to make Brenner unconscious with just one punch. Mike wished only to be able to protect El and not just be under her protection. El was in front of her biggest nightmare, she was in front of her personal monster, but she could not escape because she had to stand beside the weak and pathetic she had for her boyfriend.

He was a weak man who could not even protect the girl he loved so much.

"Having feelings is a good thing, but you would not understand." There is a brief caress in his hair. "You never knew what it was like to have feelings. I don’t think you ever loved anything but yourself, motherfucker."

The silence that hangs in the room is heavy and informs Mike that those words of El made Brenner reach the limit of patience. Brenner is unlikely to continue with his good man's play now that he has spoken.

"We have to go, Nine."

These five words are a command for Nine to intensify its effect on Mike. And she does.

If before his body was on fire, if before all he could feel was the burning, now he can’t feel anything else. It's as if his body was under anesthesia that kept him from doing anything but shaking from head to toe. This anesthesia, with painful slowness, causes Mike to lose control of his nerves, making breathing difficult. Oxygen simply didn’t want to get into his lungs anymore, and when it did, it looked like poison.

He arched, incoherent grunts escaping through his mouth as he divided himself into three things: trying to breathe, trying not to breathe, and hating himself for being weak. He definitely hated himself for making El stand next to him, hated being weak and succumbing to Nissa before even doing something to protect El.

"Mike ... Mike, I really am sorry for that. I really regret that you are suffering so much ..." He hears El cry. "OKAY! I DO WHAT YOU WANT! JUST LEAVE MIKE IN PEACE, HE’S DYING ..."

The pain diminishes enough for him to breathe again in peace and to see. The first thing he sees is Ellie, looking at him with her brown eyes, full of relief. She’s hugging him, his head lying on her lap as her trembling hands caress him with care. Ellie is muttering excuses, saying how sorry she’s that he has suffered, which is why she does not see what is happening around her.

But Mike sees. He picks up Brenner's movement, sees him sneak up on Ellie, taking advantage of his brief distraction. Brenner has something in his hands, Mike's vision is still distorted, but he can tell that it's something metallic and sharp.

A very large needle ... A syringe! Mike struggles for words to come out of his mouth, so he can warn El from imminent danger, but absolutely nothing comes out. There's a metallic glow, fast, and Mike yells. He screams loudly and gutturally when he notices that the syringe is no longer in Brenner's hands, but in El's arm. He gave his final card in that little game.

Helpless, still under the influence of Nissa, Mike observes the way El's eyes widen in shock, and then, after the brief moment of panic, as she begins to blink repeatedly with sudden unwelcome drowsiness. It takes about three or four seconds for it to collapse back, completely lifeless. Her hands are still around him, but she’s no longer conscious.

Mike does not know if Nissa has stopped hurting him with his powers, the only thing he knows is that the pain has become ignorable and that all that is left inside his body is the purest desperation.

"El" He cries her name in a loud and good tone. "El, no ... Not again, this can’t be happening a second time. You can’t ..."

And with "a second time" Mike is referring to the fact that he can’t protect El. In 1983 when Brenner had invaded the school he could do absolutely nothing to save El and now, four years later, he was no longer a boy of twelve years being held by guards, but still could not do anything for her.

Mike still could not protect El the way he wanted.

"Release her, let go of her!" Mike whimpers at the sight of Brenner dragging Ellie close to him. He was taking her. "Leave her alone ... Why can’t you leave her alone? Why can’t she leave us alone?"

Brenner leaves the job if he tucks El's body close to him and looks at him as if he were a filthy cockroach.

"Why don’t I leave her alone? Why don’t you leave her alone? Why don’t you, boy, keep creating illusions in her head?" Brenner retorts by wrapping his arms around El and hoisting up next to him. "Eleven is my best work, my masterpiece, and I can’t just let it go. Eleven is to me what a trophy is to an athlete."

"She’s not an object." Mike squirms to approach him, the thought fixed on the knife he has in the back pocket of his jeans. Maybe he can reach her, maybe he can hit Brenner. Every 'maybe' of Mike dies when he can’t even move a single muscle in his body. "She's a human being."

"No. Eleven is my best job and I'm really not willing to let you continue to ruin her with your sentimental bullshit." He nests El to himself, a movement that causes a great wave of anger in him. Brenner should not be touching her. "You're never going to destroy my job again, boy, you'll never get near her again. He's yours, Nine, don’t delay."

Mike's objections don’t stop even when the pain returns with full force. He can’t stop objecting, screaming for Brenner to stop taking El away from him. But Brenner does not stop or hesitate when he walks through the door or when he closes behind him.

But it's not over yet, Mike knows it's not over. Nissa, who had been silent during the whole succession of events, is still here with him and looks at him with superiority. Her face is pale and both nostrils are dripping with blood; result of the continued use her powers.

"She's gone, Mike." Nissa hummed softly, her voice out of tune and away from the right tone. "You've lost your sweetheart, Wheeler, but that does not matter, does it? At least it will not matter for long." She approached him. "Do you know why my papa asked me to stay?"

Annoyed by the singing, body ache and loss of El, Mike could not hold his tongue. He wanted to hurt Nine so that her pain and heartache would match his.

"Why you’re an annoying bitch?" He throbbed with a groan. "Why you’re hateful? Why he prefers El thousand times to you? Why you’re so annoying that it does not support you anymore? I don’t blame him."

A grin of rage crossed the blond girl's features as Mike's pain corrodes significantly. She can’t divide herself between feeling anger and controlling her own powers. Good to know.

"You think you're very smart, don’t you, boy? The smartest of them all." Nissa approaches him, the red heels jingling in every step she takes. "But guess what? You're not that smart, if it were you would have found a way to save your sweetheart. You would have found a way to save her from certain death."

Nissa now smiles openly, one foot resting on Mike's stomach as she leans over him.

"She's not going to die! El is strong. She's going to be okay." Mike spits furiously, limbs tingling wildly. The 'anesthesia' was passing and Nissa was conveniently close to him. "I'll find a way to save her. I'll find her."

Mike can definitely feel his arms and legs now, he can move and that's great.

"Oh, dear, you're right. She’ll survive, she’ll not die. But Eleven will want death like no one else ever wanted. I'll guarantee that myself." Nissa's blue eyes are less dark, more vibrant. She’s in jubilation to talk about El's fate, seems to hate Mike's girlfriend in a definitely personal way. Something had happened between them. "I'll make sure she wants death, the pain you felt today? I'll make her feel ten times worse. I'm going to make her cry tears of blood, wish she'd never been born. Eleven will suffer, but will not die. I don’t want her to die without suffering, it will not be happening."

Mike would never dare hurt a girl, not when he'd grown up under the ominous gaze of a violent man, but the table knife weighed in the pocket of his jeans. Weighed, asked for attention and Nissa definitely deserved. Nissa had hurt Ellie, she had helped Brenner take Ellie away from him and now he was promising that he would make her wish death. She deserved every kind of thing that hurt her, and since the only thing her hand was a table knife, that was what she deserved.

Quickly, he pulled the knife from his pocket and buried it in the only place he could reach and think: the foot she was leaning against his stomach. It was a quick move, as fast as what Martin Brenner had applied to El, but it had the effect he wanted. Nissa screamed in pain and fury. Leaning, she drew back and fell to the floor, both hands resting on her beautifully adorned foot jumping as red as her own blood.

"Son of a bitch!" Nissa howls in pain. "I'll kill you, I swear I'll kill you!"

Mike's smug smile dies slowly. He does not feel too happy or pleased to cause pain to Nissa, his mind focused on El. Brenner is probably waiting for Nissa outside the house, El is still there ... Somehow he knows he's raising hopes, she’s no longer around. He can no longer feel the comforting presence she exhales. Nothing. Only emptiness.

El gone. That's the only thought he can get. She's gone. Mike wants to scream, he wants to kick, but the only thing he can do is cry like a child and hate himself. He hates himself and does not think he can forgive himself someday. He failed.

Things around him continue to happen; he listens to Nissa flee, he hears the horrified screams of someone who appears to be Will and turns out to be himself. The world is still spinning, but Mike does not think he can do anything but cry and cling to guilt. He's to blame for that. Brenner took El because he was a fucking weak. Ted was right when he said that Mike was not man enough. Was he right.

"Mike? Mike!" Will's voice comes up and maybe he's in front of him; Mike can’t know for sure since his sight is tear-stained. "What happened, Mike? Why you’re crying? Why is there blood in my house?" Mike ... Where's my sister? "

_He took her ... He took her ... Brenner took her ... Why? Why could not she have peace?_

"M-Mike, where's my sister ?!" Will asks, jerking the other boy's shoulders back and forth. "MIKE? MY SISTER, MIKE, WHERE MY SISTER? My little sister ... MY SISTER... SHE’S FINE? TELL ME SHE’S FINE, PLEASE! DUDE, SPEAK SOMETHING! SPEAK SOMETHING ABOUT MY SISTER! "

Suddenly a wave of anger invades Wheeler's body. Where was Will not helping them? Where was he that didn’t save El when Mike was unable to do so?

"WHERE WERE YOU? WHY YOU DIDN’THING TO HELP HER ...?"

"HELP HER? WHAT HAVE, MIKE? WHERE IS MY SISTER? WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SISTER? GOD, THAT BLOOD IS ALL OF HER, IS NOT? WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY SISTER?" Will continues to swing his body from side to side, as if he were a rag doll. But it's not like he cares. "WHERE IS MY SISTER, WHEELER? WHERE IS EL?!"

Mike sobs loudly, not ashamed of what he was doing. He could not answer that question, he didn’t know where El was, where Brenner had taken her.

"Gone ..." Mike sobs again. "She ... They took her, Will ... They took El and I could not do anything to stop ..."

 


	13. The feeling of helplessness and incompetence falls on your shoulders.

December 17, 1987

 

Will Byers loved El from the first moment he had the opportunity to meet her on his own. No, it was not a worship similar to what Mike had for her, it was different, not at all romantic or close to it ... It was a similar feeling he felt for Jonathan. Eleven had saved him twice, had connected with him in a way that no one had ever done before, so it was almost impossible not to think of her as a sister.

In early 1985, when Joyce and Hopper decided to live together and take over as a couple, it had been she who had helped him with the transition from leaving the house where he had grown up to a completely new and strange home. She, with her gentleness and her careful and committed words, had stood beside him when Lonnie had come to Hawkins, to their new house, and had begun to scream at the seven winds of low-level words about the new family Joyce was building for her.

Eleven, sweet and gentle, perfectly understood the rejection that Lonnie Byers offered him; she had the rejection of Becky, his biological aunt, on her back. The woman, indeed gentler than his father, had never spared acid words toward El. She blamed the girl for her older sister's situation and was always struggling to make her aversion to her niece.

And now she was gone. El, his little, delicate little sister, had been carried to hell by the real devil. She, who in recent months had had bouts of anxiety for fear of returning the hands of Martin Brenner, the lab man, had been carried away by her cruel old abductor. He knew that El was strong, that underneath all that kindness there was an indomitable beast, but being in the presence of a ghost of the past (that ghost in question) generally made her helpless.

Will lowered his head and hid it in his hands, unwilling to watch others and their respective ways of dealing with the nervousness and agony of what was happening.

Dustin was at the foot of the stairs, his hair curly and slightly similar to El's if it were longer or well looked after and his eyes fixed on the second floor of the house where Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan were talking to Mike. Max, whose freckled face was red and swollen, was clinging to a hardened Luke. And there was his mother. Joyce was in the kitchen, both hands resting on the bench while her head was down, her shoulders shaking, indicating the tears she shed but refusing to let the group of teenagers see her.

His mother was crying the "lost" (it was not a real lost since they would find a way to have El back) of the daughter and what exactly Will was doing? He was just there, being a fool without even considering the possibility of consoling her. What kind of son was he? Jonathan and El were already comforting Joyce at that point in the championship and he ... He was being insensitive.

 _Okay, I can do this,_ Will thought as he got up from the couch where he was cowering and approaching the older woman. _I'm not the center of the world. I can comfort someone without needing to be comforted. I can do what El and John do, I have to do what they do..._

"Mom?" He calls cautiously, one hand resting on the woman's slender shoulder. "Mom, I ..."

What should he say to her, what words would help to maintain his mother's trust and faith?

The memory of El came up and flooded his heart with sadness. They were both fourteen years old, living in the same house about a month ago, and Will decided he wanted to know more about the girl he had won as a foster sister.

_"Why did you do this?" He had asked one night. "This thing of speaking what you want and feel without saying a word? It's cool, you know."_

_El had looked up from the piano sheet the teacher had borrowed for her to study and smiled sweetly at him._

_"Sometimes a gesture or a look, Will, is enough to say something." She had responded calmly, her fingers now fumbling with the hem of her lilac pajamas. "Not always what comes out of your mouth is what's in your heart. Gestures and looks are the unspoken words for your heart. I'd rather show than talk.”_

Trapped by his adoptive sister's words, he pulls his mother into a tight embrace. _I'm here,_ he tries to say _. Let's get her back_. A small wave of relief passes through Will's body as Joyce grabs the embrace hard and buries his face in his chest. He does not know what to say, he does not know what to do from then on, so he only knows that he has to stay there on her side.

His mother has the same body structure as El and having her so close to him gives him the image that his little sister is safe and sound at home. A little illusion that falls apart as his mother pulls him away to look at Steve and Jonathan down the stairs. The two of them had been questioning Mike since they'd gotten there, and judging from their expressions, they had not accomplished much.

"Did you guys get anything?" His mother approaches the two of them and he follows her so close that he can see how wide and hopeful his eyes are. "Did he say anything that would help us find my daughter? Brenner blurted out something while he was with him?"

Jonathan nods, head down, and looks at Steve. He does not want to be the person to destroy Joyce's hopes.

Will knows what Steve, whose face is stained with regret, will say even before words start to come out of his mouth. He was there the first time Steve interrogated Mike for clues. He was there and saw all of Mike's anguish in talking about Nissa, who is actually called Nine, and Brenner. He had seen firsthand the devastation of Mike and definitely didn’t want to hear about it again.

He didn’t want to hear about how cruel Nissa had been by leaving Mike at the mercy of his powers, not wanting to hear about how he had tried to defend them and failed because of fear or how she had been taken by Brenner, didn’t want to hear about how they had all been deceived by Brenner, Nissa, and most likely Ten. All he wanted was his sister, find a way to save her.

Trying to blur Steve's words, Will remembers the confusion he felt as he walked out of the room to find a bloody Nissa lying on the kitchen floor and a tearful Mike at the door of the house. As he took Mike in, trying to figure out what was going on, Will ended up giving her enough time for Nissa to flee away and leave behind a bloodstain.

The truth that’s Will is not quite sure about Nissa's appearance. She is blonde, she wears tight clothes, but ... He does not remember for sure the color of her eyes or the way her face is. He also is not sure about the appearance of Ten or anything else that has happened in the last week. Everything that happened before El was taken, every little moment, is nothing but an indistinct blur in his mind.

The dislike he felt for Ten, Hopper at the hospital, Nissa encouraging him to do something, El looking hurt and sad like never before, screams and curses ... All this really happened, he knows it, but he seems disconnected or like a dream away. Nothing seems vivid, recent or even real; the sensation that’s in the last days he was immersed underwater and that only now he left where he was hiding to experience the events in person.

Everything is strange and confusing. His mind is a bundle of unrelated things, and the guilt that burns his chest does not help to improve what he feels. Fault. It's his fault that El was taken. He could have helped El and Mike, he could have distracted Brenner and Nissa for El to flee ... But he had not. He was sleeping peacefully while his sister was kidnapped. He had done nothing to help her. Nothing to save her.

"I knew she was a bitch! I knew that Nissa was no good." Max growled loudly to draw Will's attention back to what was happening in the room. "From the moment I saw her with El, since she set foot in school, I knew there was something wrong with her. I knew there was something rotten about that girl."

Will, who with his uneven memory didn’t know what his first thought about the girl had been (now he knew she was the queen of sluts), looked barefoot. He was frankly exhausted from that entanglement; it was time to go to the point that really mattered:

"What will we do?" He questions without making eye contact with anyone. His friends were clearly judging him for something, and in that situation he could not care less. His sister was the focus. "What are we going to do to get her back?"

"Will, it's not that simple," Steve tries to say, and his words only serve to bring out a wave of indignation that taps the boy's stomach. "We need to try to find clues about Brenner, to find out if anyone saw him, or whether he's seen him around Hawkins. We also need to decide what we're going to tell people, her disappearance is certainly not going to go unnoticed by the curious in that town. "

The younger Byers frown, annoyed. Finding out, finding an excuse for El's clear absence ... This didn’t sound right in Will's ears; it sounded as if El was not coming home soon, as if it would take a long time for her to come back to them.

"So check the shit out of this city. Whatever it is, don’t delay." He gestures madly (a habit that has always been nervous). "My sister is in the hands of that psychopath, and we really don’t have time all this, things can’t be so calm, we have to act, we have to find a way to save her."

"I know we have to save her, Byers, we all want to do this, but there are a lot of things involved here in this story."

Steve is a good cop, Hopper has taught him to be one of the best, but that does not stop him from being irritated. He does not want to be cautious, he wants to save El. Act as soon as possible.

"So what do you propose?" He looked at everyone inquisitively. "What is to be done?"

They decide that no one in town can know anything, that, for all intents and purposes, El is out of town enjoying the recess of Christmas alongside her biological family. If people knew it would be a big bustle and unwanted looks fell on the kidnapped telekinetic girl. Steve would interrogate people using his police authority and everyone else would search for clues around the city. Everyone agrees with that, except Will; he has his plans and is not willing to include anyone in them.

Without waiting to hear for more, Will climbs to the second floor of the house, the goal in his mind. He needed to find El. He would find El and make no effort to do so.

He stands outside the room itself, not knowing whether or not to enter. The sequence of painful sobs informs him that it is best to stay away from the bedroom and give Mike and Nancy privacy. They both needed a moment alone, with no one bothering them. But when Mike's tearful voice echoes weakly behind the door, it freezes where it is.

"I-I could not protect her, Nance." He regrets and Will didn’t need to see him to know that he is struggling not to give up crying. "I could not do anything but watch her being taken. Again. Again, I didn’thing to help her.

"Mike, you can’t blame yourself. It's not your fault." Nancy Wheeler tries to comfort her brother, but Mike interrupts her abruptly.

"Of course it's my fault. I'm weak, Nance, I could not protect her from this. Our father is right about me." He retorts fiercely. "I lost her again. Nance, once again I lost her and I could not do anything about it. First the Demogorgon and now this son of a bitch. I lost her to an interdimensional monster and then to a monster of flesh and blood and bone."

"It was not your fault, Mike, neither of these two times, you wanted to save her, we all know that, we know you would die for her."

"But I didn’t die, I died?" I'm still here while she's there with him. I didn’t save her. There's a difference between wanting and doing: I didn’thing. I was not brave or strong enough to do anything and get her out of here." Mike blames himself, and Will can swear he has never heard his friend sound so angry or angry with himself. "I didn’t help her. I didn’t do nothing. I was just watching Brenner take her. I don’t want to continue like this, I don’t want to continue being weak."

Mike's phrase hangs in the air, begging for a sequel. Will can hear him pacing from side to side, disquieted. Years of living with Mike Wheeler (twelve years, more specifically) gave Will the opportunity to meet his manias and attitudes. When he was nervous, embarrassed or overly excited about something (with El), he blushed and stuttered. When he had a crazy idea in mind, a suicidal idea that would be recriminated or that would work hard, he would start pacing the environment just as he was doing at that moment.

Mike was about to ask or say something that Nancy certainly wouldn’t approve.

"Do you know how to shoot, Nance?" Will's friend asks his sister, his voice controlled. "You know to use a gun and hit a target?"

Nancy knows how to shoot, and Mike's questioning leaves her on alert.

"Why do you want to know, Michael?"

"I want you to teach me how to shoot." Mike responds decisively, no hesitation in his voice. "I want to know how to defend myself."

"Mike, you don’t have to learn to shoot to know how to defend yourself. Things can’t always be decided on a brute force basis." Nancy responds in her older sister's voice. El usually used this voice with Will. "You're smart, little brother, you don’t have to learn to use a weapon to defend yourself."

"That's a no, Nance?"

"Yeah, Mike, I'm sorry for that and I hope you understand ..."

"Can you leave me alone?" Mike interrupts her, his voice surprisingly mild at the refusal he has just received. "My head is exploding and I definitely think I might throw up if I don’t lie down."

"It's all right." Will hears Jonathan's girlfriend surrender. "You know you can count on me, right? I know it may sound disgusting, Mike, but I love you and it hurts me very much to see you in this situation now. It hurts me very much to see you suffering a second time for her."

Will can’t hear Mike's response or the door knob spinning. The only thing he knows that’s before he can turn and hide in a room, before he can hide and escape the "nosy" label, the bedroom door opens and Nancy is looking him in the eye.

She looks surprised but, above all, tired. Her appearance, always well cared for (she's a Wheeler, after all, and the only one allowed to escape the rule of perfection is Mike), is destroyed: no make-up, messy blond hair, dark circles under blue eyes, crumpled, ordinary clothes. The loss of El affected her on all sides; by Jonathan, Mike and by herself. Nancy liked him, too.

"Will." She starts to speak, surprised. "What you’re ... Okay this is your room, stupid question. You’re okay? How you’re feeling?"

"I..."

Nancy just wants to be nice, she just wants to help him, but she's graduating to be a psychologist, with his track record with psychologists, Will feels trapped by her questions. He can’t reason right, not until he has locked himself in a room and escaped Nancy Wheeler's kindly and pious eyes. He does not need or want anyone's pity, not even Jonathan's girlfriend. Why would he need pity when El, very soon, would be coming home? The pity of Nancy or anyone there was not welcome.

The boy looks around, shocked to find himself surrounded by pink walls. He, in the rush to escape Nance, had entered El's room. It had been a mistake to go in there, the tightness in his chest showing it. This was El's room, but she was not there; God only knew where she was.

Struggling to suppress tears, Will wanders through El's room, checking every little detail of the place. The bookcase full of novels and other nonsense she loved so much, the desk full of decorated notebooks, colorful and delicate pens. And there were the photos she had proudly displayed on a shelf. Photos of her and Max, she and Hopper, she and Jonathan, she and Mike (these were the ones that existed in greater abundance) and she and Will.

He takes a picture of either, the one that turns out to be the most recent. El, dressed in a striped black T-shirt, a pleated red skirt and black boots, in a frozen chuckle in time as he lifted her into the air. The photo had been taken about six months ago, but Will could still feel El's warm hands clutching the back of his head for support, the way her scent had resembled his scent, her curls tickling, her laughter…

Tears and hiccups arise and he does not fight them, only surrenders and slides to the ground. Weeping, Will cringes against the desk, hugging El's picture frame. His heart hurts as if someone is punching him with a knife, and Will vaguely wonders if that's how Jonathan felt when he was gone. The feeling of helplessness, incompetence, pain ... Jonathan had felt all this? Had he also hidden himself to cry away from the curious eyes? How had he endured that emptiness?

There is no manual on how to be a good big brother, but it is not necessary when Mike, Jonathan and Nancy are there to rub in his face which meant the whole thing. Being a good big brother meant protecting and caring, getting the younger brother out of anything that might be dangerous. He should have done this with El ... Why did he not? What had he done?

Will's head hurts when he tries to remember the last time he was kind to El. There was no kind of him to her in the last days; just mean words and difficult to heal. He had hurt her and didn’t even remember doing it. The cruel words, the screams ... Everything was there in his memory, but it didn’t seem real and he really didn’t want to believe it was real.

He stays where he is, still hugging the frame, and does not wipe away the tears as the bedroom door opens and Max and Mike enter. Will does not move, he will stay right where he is and there is nothing and no one to get him out. He does not even bother to wipe away the tears that have been pouring in the last few minutes.

Except Max, she'll get you out of there. Seemingly outraged to death by Will's behavior, the redhead marches up to him and grabs his collar to force him to his feet. Her eyes are red, just like Mike's, and full of anger clearly aimed at him.

"I told you! I told you that you didn’t know how to value what you had, that you would only discover her importance when you lost her." The girl swings him back and forth, teeth clenched. "You lost, idiot, how do you feel now? The guilt is already eroding you, you’re sorry for the shit you told her?"

Will looks at her questioningly.

"What you’re talking about?"

He is afraid that the blur of images in his head is really true, that he actually yelled at El.

"Don’t play stupid!" Max pushes him away. "I hope you die of remorse and guilt. I hope you can’t sleep at night, because the guilt is slowly and painfully eroding you."

"W-what you’re talking about? I don’t know what you're talking about, Max." He turns to Mike. "What is she talking about? I don’t remember almost anything from the last few days."

"You're lying!" Max hisses in his face. "A big shit liar, that's what you’re!"

But Mike seems touched.

"Don’t you remember yesterday? Nothing?" Wheeler's shoulders wither. "You drank so much at that point, Will?"

"I don’t remember much, but I sure didn’t drink." He frowns to himself and, over the headache, struggles to remember. "I remember telling me about Hopper, that I was going to the hospital and that I met Nissa. She talked to me, told me something, I don’t know what, it was the right thing to do and ... So things are not over Everything seems strange. " He laments walking to El's bed and sitting there. "Loose fragments. I remember yelling at El for some reason, she was crying. I made her cry?"

Silence is enough for him as an answer. Yes, he had made El cry. Oh, God, if those fragmented memories really were true, he was a monster, he deserved death.

"You destroyed her, you son of a bitch! You destroyed her heart." Max growls, but what attracts his attention is Mike's voice echoing in the background and asking the redhead to contend. "Contain myself, Michael? He destroyed my best friend, my only friend! Your girlfriend!"

Mike's restrained breathing echoes through the room and Will lifts his head in time to see the other boy gather a teddy bear from the floor and hug him against him.

Mike was always their leader, even when they were still in kindergarten, and they were still strutting and uncertain. He didn’t pull back easily, he didn’t give up so soon and Will knew he was not giving up at that moment. He was clearly shaken, destroyed, but he was not about to allow El to stay away from him one more time.

"I know what he did." Mike grunts, pushing his face away from the teddy bear. "But if not it really? And if it was something of Nyssa and Ten? Think, Max, the two have powers and he just said that he remembers Nissa be sending him to do something. Does it not made him act like a disturbed drunk? It's an option. "

"A weak option."

"I'm accepting it. I'm not going to keep looking for more problems when I have them." Mike snorts, indignant at Max's insolence. He does not have the patience to be upset. "What do you think, Will? Do you think Nissa may have manipulated you?"

He does not remember to drink, he does not remember to speak horrible things for El of himself and does not want to have done it consciously, therefore Will nods positively.

"I think she did it to me. What did I say yesterday?" No one answers and he feels really bad. "Guys, what did I tell El?"

"You'd better not know." Mike says with a pang of pity in his voice. The boy who was just a few minutes ago had almost cried now was sorry for him; that meant he'd done a hell of a lot of shit. "We need to talk about El and how we're going to find her. You're going to help me, right?"

"What about Dusty and Lucas? Are not they going to be involved in this meeting, the whole thing?" Max glares at him when he asks Mike the question. Well, she certainly wouldn’t be forgiving him anytime soon. "They are also part of it. They are our people. We need to include them. "

It's Will who answers, why he's already got what Mike is trying to do.

"Later. The five of us gathered up here would attract unwanted attention. What Mike has in mind is something that can’t attract attention, right? If my mother or Steve realized that we were all together, they would automatically deduce from our plans and interrupt them." He looks at his friend in anticipation, Mike had a plan to find El, his resignation was there and that would fill Will with hope. “What will we do?"

Mike will help him find El, the boy clearly will not rest until she's back with them. Great.

"Let's read her diaries." Mike squeezes the teddy bear and cringes at Max's grunts. "I know, I know this all sounds crazy and invasive, I hate doing it, okay? But she asked for it. Earlier today, she gave me two diaries: one for me and one for Will. El said we should read tomorrow."

 

"So that's it? Let's read El's diaries just because she, probably delirious, asked us to do it." Max's hands are in his hair, holding him in a clumsy, ridiculous coke. "And what are we going to do until tomorrow, until the time to read the diary?"

Will, who is suspicious that his friend will not give up the teddy bear he has been holding before El's return, observes that he picks up two diaries that were in bed; the two diaries of El and to distribute between them. Mike keeps El's most recent diary and the other, the older one, is aimed at him. El's hair clip, his favorite, is also given to him.

"Well ... Any of you know how to shoot?" Mike asks, kicking the air shyly. "Move with guns? I want to learn."

Max laughs out loud at her friend's question, clearly considering him pitiful, as Will feels something close to a smile on his lips. Of course Mike wouldn’t be letting go of the story of learning to shoot; the natural obstinacy he had within him wouldn’t allow it.

The brown-haired boy, though still clutching his adoptive sister's objects, raised a hand and waved positively. Lonnie, shortly after Will's return from Upside Down, had decided he would devote a day of his glamorous drunken life to teach the boy how to handle a firearm. It had been traumatizing, especially considering the death of the little animals Lonnie had forced him to target, but now it was definitely useful.

_Thanks, Lonnie. You did something good in your fucking life. Congratulations, idiot._

"Do you know how to shoot?" Max is surprised what Mike seems excited about. "Byers, do you know how to shoot? God, boy, when did you learn?"

"I can teach you." Will says simply. Knowing how to shoot is not something he's going to brag about. "Do you want?"

Of course Mike wants to.

When Max and Mike leave (not before they arrange a meeting of the gang on the old iron in two and a half hours) and Will finds himself alone in El's room again, curiosity invades him. El left her diary for him to read and, according to Mike, he could only read the whole thing the next morning. Well, the misfortune had already happened and El was no longer there; he could very well read her diary, go ahead and see what she had left written for him.

He was not doing it for evil or wanting to sneak into the things his sister had written there, his purpose was to find clues that would help locate El's whereabouts.

Clues, she may have left me some clue as to where she is. El had always been intuitive and had certainly had some inkling about what was about to happen, he thinks with hope as he opens the diary of the missing girl. Now what he does not expect is to come up against ... With a carefully folded letter. El's letters, curvy and delicate as a result of the continuous use of a calligraphy notebook, had written a single word: Will.

With shaking hands, he opens the letter and unfolds it until there is no more crease in his field of vision. Only El's last words to him.

 

_Hi, Will,_

_I'll get right to the point, okay? No stalling because definitely we don’t have time for that._

_I know that you’re feeling lost now, I know there is a weight in your heart and I can say that I understand you: that’s exactly what I am feeling as I write your letter, not knowing what will happen to me. Want to know what helps lessen what you’re feeling? Nothing. There is nothing that helps with that. The only thing I can do when I'm feeling this way is to pretend that everything is under control, to pretend that I know what I'm dealing with and ... Well, to be close to you. You always help me with these things, even they don’t know._

_We both know that no one is iron, we both know that no one can endure pain or injury without a scar (even if it is not visible) and, believe me, I don’t feel well asking you to do so. But it's necessary, Will. You need to believe that you can be strong, need to act and inspire strength. You’re no longer a child, Will, and as much as you want to succumb to fear and pain, you can’t. There are people who need you and, God, after what you told me today I'm not sure if my sanity is still fully functioning, but I need you too._

_I don’t blame you for anything, absolutely anything, so I ask you also don’t blame yourself. We're human, right? Okay, I'm a human with powers ... Psionics, that's how you called my telekinesis and the other things I know how to do? Well, that still does not make me a green alien. I'm still human. You’re also human. We all went wrong. I know people, especially Max, my faithful squire can be a bit difficult when she thinks she's defending me, they'll blame you after your show earlier today, but their opinion does not matter._

_You yelled at me, Will, and if I say it's okay, then it's okay._

_And it's okay. I don’t love you less for everything you've told me and now, with the cleanest head of the hurt and the resentment, I don’t know if it was you or not that was saying that with me. I don’t know if it was alcohol or ... Nissa. The only thing I know that’s I still love you like a brother and nothing has changed that. I still like you, Will, and wish you were safe._

_Don’t do any nonsense, okay? And don’t let Mike do it either. He can be a little inconsistent, irrational and even annoying and far (really far), so please take care of him for me. Don’t let him get away from himself. Take care of him and Max, the two together may not be a good join. Take cyou’re too._

_I’ll not tell you not to worry about me, I’ll not spend the ink of my favorite pen writing to say I'm fine; to do that would be hypocritical on my part, even why the hell does it look good when it's near Brenner? I just ... You know I have my "friends don’t lie" policy so I can’t do that. I'm not fine, Will, but I have not been fine for months. But there is a new addition to this "not fine"; now I am far from everything that has always given me security, I was caught again._

_But, hey!, I know how to turn very well. It's not as if this was news to me. Your sister knows how to survive, Will, and I'll show you that. I'll go home. I may be a little different when I get back, my head will certainly be a complete mess, but I'm going to go home._

_Can I tell you one last thing, something you can’t forget? I don’t need to have your blood running in my veins or to be originally in your family tree to love you like Jonathan does. Hopper loves you too, but he's too tough to admit it out loud. Hopper is too tough for many things, you know. You’re a tough man, too, William, and do you know what conclusion it brings me? That we're a tough family._

 

 

_Kisses, El Jane Hopper._


	14. What exists in the darkness that surrounds us: an enemy or an ally?

December 17, 1987

Mike stands in the center of the old iron, a tall, slim figure who since receiving the gun (smuggled from Jonathan's things) into his hands and listened attentively to Will's instructions, ignored them with joy and focused completely on his goal. The freckled boy, with his half-closed dark eyes and messy hair, looks haughty, frighteningly ferocious, and distant from the little nerd whom Will was accustomed to deal with. Will had lost his sister for the first time, but, Mike ... He had lost his girlfriend twice and he could not do anything but observe.

The whole thing had been clearly traumatizing to him, he was explicit in his bruised face. He wouldn’t be forgiving himself for losing El a second time, but, on the other hand, he wouldn’t be giving up on finding her.

With his arms around himself, ignoring the noise his friends make as they study the maps of Hawkins and the outskirts of the city that Dustin and Lucas had stolen from Steve's house, Will feels El's letter burn in the pocket of his jacket . She'd begged him not to let Mike do any nonsense, and now, watching the other boy hit four of the five bottles that had been set up with clear shots, he wondered if it had really been a good idea to put a firearm in the hands of Mike.

 _"Really, Byers?"_ Will could almost hear El's voice scold him with exasperation. The brown eyes, he was sure, rolling in their sockets. _"My boyfriend is obviously upset and hurt and what do you do? You give him a fucking gun and teach him to shoot. Congratulations on your intelligence, dumbass."_

He knows that El's imaginary voice is right, that it was not at all smart to give Mike a gun. But what could he do? Mike was his friend, his best friend, and he seemed desperate to prove to himself that he could protect himself and protect El next time.

No one could blame him. Will just wanted to help and Mike just wanted to show that he was not completely disqualified as a human being, that he was not just a defenseless nerd who was under the protection of his girlfriend.

"Dude," Max whistles, drawing the attention of the other boys toward Mike and what he was doing. "Since when did Wheeler stop being a nerd and became a sniper?"

As if to reaffirm the redhead's words, Mike hit a new shot in the last bottle. A perfect shot, it seemed like he had years of practice and not that it was the first time he had a gun in his hands. Without stopping to rest, Mike packed five more bottles and arranged them as replacements for his destroyed targets. He clearly was not willing to stop so soon.

"I thought he didn’t know how to shoot." Lucas wondered. "I frankly thought he wouldn’t be able to pick up a gun without giving up and giving up."

"Yeah!" Dustin nodded weakly, head bowed. "He was always so ... awkward. Not that I'm not clumsy, but ... Dude, it's Mike. He was always the worst of us in sports and races, second only to me, of course. He once told me that he tried to play baseball with his father and he passed out after getting a dunk in the face." The boy pauses for the information to be absorbed by everyone. "And now look at him."

"He looks like a pro at what he's doing. He's almost as good as Steve and Hopper." Max praises with bright blue eyes of admiration. "It almost looks sexy. What, Lucas? I said almost, Lucas Sinclair, you’re deaf or what? I don’t think Wheeler is sexy and I still don’t believe El thinks so.”

"You just said that ..." Lucas shot Max and then Mike glared, jealousy glittering in his dark eyes. "Can someone explain to me why he's so good with a gun? Since when is he skillful?"

No one answers, and that's a must for Will, for he knows exactly where Mike's accuracy comes from.

"It's in his blood." Will answers absently, the distant mind of his friends' discussion and now fixes on what might be happening to him at that moment. "Nancy is good with guns, he's good with guns, and if Holly catches a gun someday it's going to be just as good, their genetics are good for those things."

This is the first time he has spoken since he stopped giving instructions to Mike and the perpetual silence causes Will to shrink and repress himself. It was a mistake to speak, if silence didn’t make that clear enough, Max's annoyed stare could not stop.

God, she was not going to be leaving him alone anytime soon. The worst? It's just that Lucas, her boyfriend, wouldn’t be bothering her and Dustin ... Dustin loved El with all his might, he worshiped the girl in a way that sometimes summoned both Mike and Will. Dustin was the big-hearted face, who hurt himself when the people he loved hurt. He certainly wouldn’t be talking to Will after what the boy had done to El.

"Really, guys? We really will be acting like this?" Dustin questions, his big, soft heart pitied by the pain that Will was going through as he lost his sister. "Why don’t we forget all this and concentrate on our priority? You know, find El and everything."

Lucas seemed inclined to agree with Dustin, but eventually recoiled when Max hit him in the stomach as a reprimand. She wouldn’t be agreeing with Dustin and she wouldn’t be letting Lucas do it either.

Already accustomed to Max's stubborn behavior and Lucas's giving in to whatever she wanted, Will merely nodded to Dustin in a silent "let-go" and resigned himself to rummaging through his bag until he found the distraction he needed: Sketchbook. El had diaries and he sketchbooks.

Will's initial idea was simple: to be distracted from the world, from the recent loss of foster sister and from the diary that weighed like lead in the knapsack. El's diary ... Despite reading the letter, he had not been able to go much further. The remorse of going against El's request had made him back down and, well, being there in that distracting place. Drawing usually took it out of orbit, but apparently this time didn’t work.

El remained in Will's mind, resilient to letting herself be forgotten. I don’t want to forget you, Will thought to himself. I just want to unwind a little. You can’t blame me for it. And El certainly wouldn’t blame him, but she wouldn’t let him go either. He only realized this after a long time of distracted gibbing and shaping the somewhat confused image of her.

Will had drawn El with careful, not very heavy strokes, and although he most often enjoyed the work he did, he was not overjoyed at what he found. The delicate face he had drawn was clearly El's, but it was painful and painful. There was a small stream of blood running down his lips, and his long, defined brown curls were short and lifeless.

Grumbling to himself, he begins a new drawing and it does not take long for him to take the form of his sister again. This time it’s not a caricature of the bust and, yes, of the whole body. El, sitting in a chair with her legs and hands tied, faces something in front of her with obvious disgust and fear. Allowing the imagination to carry him on, Will traces a few more lines and these shape a tall, though clearly masculine figure with a blurred and obscure face.

The new figure, which Will and his imagination assume to be Brenner or Ten, is leaning over El, one hand resting on her thigh. Even though he's nauseated by what he's been drawing, Byers goes on with his work, deepening the features of El's face and trying to express her emotions. Disgust, fear, repulsion. Her legs, even tied and drawn with hasty and now desperate features, seem restless and ready to aim a kick if they were loose.

The noisy voices of Dustin, Lucas and Max, Mike's rehearsal shots all fall behind when Will starts another drawing. Frantic, he traces first the dark figure and runs out of air as he bends over what will in the future be the image of his sister.

"It's just a drawing," Will murmurs to himself under his breath, agitated. "This is not really happening, El is not going through it, it's my imagination speaking louder, I'm being paranoid."

A loud growl escapes the boy's lips as the tip of the pencil breaks and destroys all chances of him continuing his scribbles about what he probably (God forbid) is going on with El. When he looks up from the notebook, his eyes blazing with the effort of staring at a single point and also with suppressed tears, he sees that everything around him has changed in the meantime. Mike stopped training with his new means of protection and Max was definitely allowing Lucas to look directly at him. Everyone was watching him.

"Will?" Dustin hesitates as he speaks, careful words. "You’re okay? Looked like you were having a nervous syncope or something."

"Doubt you've ever seen a nervous syncope, Dustin." He laughed nervously and closed the sketchbook in a hurry as he caught Mike's approach. Paranoia or not, Mike didn’t need to see those drawings. "I'm fine, I just broke the tip of my pencil. Sorry. Do you have any pencils to borrow?"

Despite not buying Will's shameless lie, everyone decides not to dwell on it.

"And then?" Mike asks clearly, trying to divert attention away from Will. "You were studying the maps, right? Any idea where Brenner might be with El?"

While Dustin takes the lead, Will can’t get away from the bad feeling that had come after the cartoon collapse. Please God, let none of this be happening to my sister. He sways his legs nervously, the distant mind of Dustin's explanation that they simply could not wander around in search of El and fix on what might be happening at that moment.

It's morbid, he knows it, but just can’t get away from the images that come and torment silently. Blood. Tears. Pain. The pain is not quite an image, but a sensation, but it’s still there. Brenner was hurting her, he was hurting her. He could be hurting her right now.

"Will?" Mike calls. He’s now sitting next to the others, hugging the teddy bear he had dragged there. "What do you think?"

He stares at him for a few seconds, perplexed at being brought to the subject and rescued from his possible paranoia.

"I was distracted," he says, embarrassed. "Can you give me a summary of what I missed?"

Mike, Dustin, and Lucas nod, always knowing their friend's distracted mind and how easily he can distance himself from reality. Max just rolled his eyes at him and Lucas before turning to a map. She was stubborn, resentful of Will, and definitely hurt by her friend's absence.

"I was commenting that Ten had told us that Brenner had two hiding places, two sheds next to our houses and that, as much as he’s not reliable, we should check the information." Mike says and his voice sounds steady and confident: the voice of a leader. "You know, cover territory. The more territory we cover, the faster we'll find it."

Max nods, though his face is furrowed with questioning.

"But, as you yourself said, Ten is not and has never been trusted. He may have lied to us about it, just as he lied about needing our help."

"And who said I'm basing myself only on his statements?" The boy responds after the concordant voices of Lucas and Dustin stop echoing by the old iron. "It's logical, Mayfield. Follow my reasoning, please. He's been around here all this time, knew about everything that happened with El and it’s impossible that he has gone too far. Moreover, he kidnapped daughter of the Sheriff. Obviously he will not risk going too far or coming out of hiding."

"People don’t know El was abducted." Lucas retorts. He has his arms around Max and Will can swear to see a brief flash of envy shimmer in Mike's eyes. "No one can know. Did Steve mention that to you?"

"Yeah, he commented. You know what he said, too??" Mike asks and it’s clear that he will not abandon the idea he has in mind. First learn how to shoot and then rummage through the forests of Hawkins and the surrounding area. "That he would leave all police officers at the station if they saw people with the description of Brenner, Nissa and Ten, they are officially wanted by the police."

"You still can’t be sure that she's around." Max retorts stubbornly and it annoys Will in an incomprehensible way. "Nobody's sure, Mike."

Mike blushes at Max's questioning and Will knows that's not the kind of flush he has when he's happy next to El or when he's at peace with himself; when Mike's cheeks and his face take on the color red as the main tint is a sign that he’s about to lose his composure. Even Mike has his limits, and while El is in danger and away from him, his boundaries get smaller and more worn down.

Max is doing that to Mike, challenging him and being petulant because he met the other boy after El's first loss. She didn’t see the depression the boy passed by, didn’t see the sadness and discouragement that accompanied him at that time to compare to the state of alert he’s now.

"If he's talking that's why you're sure, Max." Will says before his best friend can say something he'll regret later. He already has the same image burned, so whatever. Screw it. "If you don’t agree with him or the plans he's drawing, I can only regret you because I agree and I want to hear everything. Stop interrupting."

It's wrong to talk to a girl in such a rude and unabashed tone, even if the girl in question is Maxine Mayfield and she's driving him crazy. Will knows how wrong is what he just did and regrets enormously, but what is in question there is his sister's life and so far, even with Max's objections, Mike's plan was the most reasonable.

He also knows that the fact that Mike's plan is reasonable does not justify the harsh words he's directed at Max. That's why he waits for retaliation, for the cursing of the redhead. Maxine Mayfield never gets cheap when a boy treats her rudely (which never happens). But it seems that this time she will let go of it, that even glaring at him and swearing to him a silent and painful death, the girl lowers the head and only complains to itself. No war started.

The silence that follows is full of embarrassment and Will wants to stick his face into a hole. No. In an anthill. Threading his face into an anthill would be much more painful and all he deserves is the pain. It's the second time in less than two days that he's an idiot with a girl and his chest hurts with it. It's my blood speaking louder, boy, Lonnie's voice whispers into his mind. You're going to be as asshole as me. People will cry and you will be to blame for this. We're equal. You and I.

Will shakes his head, desperate for Lonnie's voice to leave his head. Deliriating with El's voice was acceptable and he even liked it as it gave him the feeling that she was still around but the voice of Lonnie from his father ... It's horrible to rave in Lonnie's voice and even more horrible to think that the voice can be right and that he can do with anyone everything that Lonnie did with his mother.

"I-I feel she's still around." Mike continues what he was saying before Will and Max intrude into the limelight. "It's just a feeling, okay? It's gone when he took her, but now come back. He's still here. And, look, it's okay if you don’t want to run into this whole thing I'm proposing. It's crazy, I know it's crazy, but I'll still be doing it. With or without you, I'll keep looking for her."

As much as his sanity and the fearful side tell him to fear and retreat, Will does not hesitate. He can’t hesitate when the question is El's life. She’s above him, her life is above his.

"I'll go with you." Will nods to reaffirm what he has just said. "I'm into anything but standing idly by while all this happens. I'm not going to stand still or leave it."

Although they hesitate and clearly fear what can be found in the jungle those hours of the night, the others also give in to Mike's plan. And that's how everyone ends up wandering in the woods, separated into groups. Will leaves with Mike heading east and Dustin, Lucas and Max the West Forest, all equipped with walkie talkies, baseballs and lacrosse and with the promise to meet again in an hour and a half.

The walk with Mike is quiet and Will, who occasionally glances at his friend as he leaves a trail behind while dragging a baseball bat through the white-painted forest, can’t ignore his friend's bruised face. He has a brief memory of who did it with Mike, but he also does not dare try to see if the memory is correct or not. Stop pestering someone who is clearly doing his or her best to look tough.

"So," Mike says suddenly, his voice echoing through the darkness of the forest. "You read her diary, don’t you?"

The ghost of a smile runs across Mike's face as Will nods positively with a shyness he had long ago lost.

"Yeah, I knew you would. I think she knew that, too." He runs a hand through his hair and makes it even more messy. "And...? What was in it for you? Any clue?"

"I found a letter. She left me a letter." Will responds timidly. "No clue in the letter, just ... El being El. After the letter I didn’t dare read her diary. I leafed in, but I didn’t read anything but the letter. "

"Do you think she left a letter for me?" Mike asks hopefully, his face full of bruises lighting up with possibility. "You think El may have left something for me in the diary she gave me?"

The love that shines in Mike's eyes, the unreasonable hope of touching a letter from El is what makes Will nod. It's beautiful how Mike acts on El, how he does not hide what he feels for her or how he no longer blushes so easily when they tease him about his feelings.

"Oh, sure." Mike says silly, clearly wondering what might be in his letter. "Sure."

And this is what Will does not understand in the relationship of the two lovers. Will has already had a girlfriend, he still has one consider the kisses he and Myra exchange in the school bleachers whenever they can (not that they are official), but he never got so silly and neither did Myra look at him as El looked at Mike. Looking closely, with enough attention, their relationship was more like ... Like kisses and other things. There was not much feeling or words and realizing this he did it if he asked what was wrong with him, what he was doing wrong.

Myra, with her clear blond hair, amber eyes and gold personality (delicate, kind, shy and ... well, hot when she wanted to be hot), was a lovely, lovely girl. She's perfect for you, son, his mother always said that Will took the girl home to ... The initial idea was to always study for some proof, but the two always end up with kisses. Will had even tried to talk to the girl, ask how she felt about him, and tell her about his feelings. But nothing worked, and they always returned to body language.

"Mike?" Will stares at the floor, not knowing how to ask what he wants. It was an intimidating subject of Mike and El, it didn’t concern him. But the curiosity, the desire to know ... "How do you feel about El? How do you know that you like her?"

Will is about to apologize for his rudeness and lack of tact when Mike formalizes an answer to offer him and the darkness that surrounds them.

"I ... I just know, Will. In the beginning, when I met her, I felt this thing, you know? A good feeling. Peace in the middle of the storm. It was a really good thing." Mike smiles into the dark and Will knows he's already lost him to the memories, that he's going to hear too many personal things. "And that good feeling, that feeling only became more intense with the passage of time, stronger. When I'm around her it's like my heart does not fit in my chest anymore, and as stupid as it may sound, it does not hurt or make me want to stay away from her. I never want to stay away from her."

"How do you feel when you're around her? Why do you like her?"

"I like her because she makes me feel ... Hot."

Will rolls his eyes, not wanting to know about this part of Mike and El's relationship.

"Fine, Mike, it's all about detail."

Mike's pale cheeks take on a faint rosy hue in the darkness of the forest.

"No, no! No hot like that ... Well, that way too, but the point is that it makes me feel confident about myself. I mean, everyone in Hawkins knows she's too much for me and I know that. But when I'm with her, I feel like I can be enough for her, that I can be something other than the dumb nerd that everyone knows. "He swerves from a small pile of snow. I like her since I found her in the forest, completely soaked, shaking from head to foot." Lucas and Dustin thought she was a boy, but I didn’t. I could see that she was a girl and, despite her shaved hair and her nose dripping blood, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life.”

Mike's words, the intensity that exists in every syllable he utters, hits Will deeply and makes him feel even more wrong. He wonders, not for the first time, if the Demogorgon didn’t steal from him the ability to love another human being, a girl, because after Mike's words it’s evident that he does not love Myra or that he will ever love her.

Attraction and love are not the same, not from afar. Will wants to love Myra, he really wants to feel for her everything Mike feels about El, but things don’t work out that way. What Mike says only highlights what Will had known for a long time: loving is not something that can be forced, it's actually something instantaneous and inconstant. Had he, like Lonnie Byers, been born to have no love for someone else?

"Why you’re asking this?" Mike asks, his voice serious again. Oh, yes, it seems that someone has returned to the sad reality. "You're going to ask that girl... Myra in dating? She seems to be nice, you know. Why don’t you call her for one of our campaigns when El comes back?"

 _Because Myra hates nerds and I'm an exception on her hate list._ _According to her I kiss well and that's a good reason to stay with me._

"I'll finish ... Whatever she and I have is going to end. I don’t feel well." Will looks around, a bad feeling. "I don’t feel for her a sixth of all that you told her about El."

"You don’t have to love as I love, you know? Nobody loves the same way."

"I wanted to feel something for her, I really wanted to, but I can’t. It's best to end this before one of us gets hurt."

Mike keeps to himself whatever he’s about to reply, his dark eyes wandering the forest completely suspicious. Will, who until a few seconds ago was focused on his friend, follows his example after hearing a rustle that indicates something or someone is about them.

The two stiffen, baseball cues drawn based on Steve's cue already in their hands (do what when Mike had finished with the gun ammunition?) And ready to attack whatever it was. Mike seemed particularly prepared for this, to attack what was surrounding them.

"Alright, I'll ask only once and if it's not answered, I swear to God, we'll knock you over." Mike threatens, the baseball bat positioned in attack position. "Who's there?"

Will holds his breath, a sense of recognition crossing him when, from the shadows, a tall figure emerges with his hands raised. A boy a little older than the two, a worn-out leather jacket, brown hair that had a strange air of savagery, blue eyes.

"I came in peace," the boy assured as he approached the two in footsteps. "I swear I don’t want to do anything against you both. I just want to ... Talk."

"So you can speak properly, don’t you talk like a little child?" Mike murmurs under his breath. He’s frighteningly controlled, far more controlled than Will. "Why am I not surprised by this, Ten?"

It's his name, "Ten", which causes him to awaken from his initial torpor. With the nail-studded baseball bat pointed at the newcomer's leather jacket, Will approaches.

"Where is she?" He demands and feels that Mike is near him, supporting him. "Where did that bastard take my sister?"

"She's my sister, too."

"Fuck off!”

 “Where did they take her, Ten? "Mike repeated Will's demand, his voice ten times more severe as he shoved the baseball bat against the other's chest." I swear to God, if you don’t tell me, I'll..."

"You'll what? You don’t have the courage to do anything to me, Wheeler. You also don’t, Byers." The blue-eyed boy mocks, even though there is a twinge of fear when he looks at Mike. "You two could not fight me. I'm the one who has the powers here, it's me who can make them my puppets. Did El tell me that I can see the worst fear of you? That I can sniff it out and show it live and in color?"

Will weakens in his position the mention of foster sister, unlike Mike. He has no other reaction than to squeeze the nail-studded baseball bat against Ten's chest with enough force for a small stain of blood to sprout on the white T-shirt.

"We're not afraid of you, Ten. Try to do this and see what I'm capable of. I guarantee you I will not miss the opportunity I'm having right now." Mike threatens. "Now, did you come here to talk to us or threaten us?"

"I want to talk to you about her." Ten is silent for a few seconds, maybe hoping they'll let him go. This doesn’t happen. "I ... I can help you find her."

"Why do I feel that you don’t know where she’s?"

"Why I don’t know. Get out of this whole thing this morning, before he takes her and now I don’t know where they are." Ten responds by looking at them and trying to exhort them to believe that what he was saying was true. "I realized that her place was not with us and I ended up fighting with Nissa about what we should do. Nissa didn’t want to leave the Pope and I ... I realized that El can’t be around him, people like Nissa, Brenner and I. She's not like us. "

"Of course she’s not." Will bends to look him in the eye. "My sister is a thousand times better than you and does not deserve to be going through this."

The cold winter wind hisses around them before anyone ever speaks again.

"And why should we believe you?" "She trusted you and look what happened. Look what happened to us because of El's credulity."

"I'm the only chance for you guys to find El." Ten grunts with a grimace of discomfort and Will has the feeling that Mike is increasing the pressure on the cue. "I know the possible places where he can be and you ... You don’t know anything. You may wander for months before discovering something really relevant, and then when you do, it will be too late to find them. Brenner has plans to leave town, to leave the country with her. "

Joyce's son's head turns and he feels he's about to vomit up the little food he allowed himself to eat over dinner.

"And what do you want besides helping us?" Mike asks harshly, no inflection in his voice or something to indicate that just a few minutes ago he was talking about his feelings. "You're not the kind to help without wanting something in return."

"I don’t want anything in return. I just want to help bring El back, and then I'm out of your life." He stares at both of them firmly. "I earn my freedom. So? Do you believe me?"

Mike and Will look at each other and, in silence, reach a consensus. As much as Ten is unreliable, however much they both hate him and what he stands for, the idiot is one way to find El.

Still without saying anything, the two teenagers back away from Ten and despite doing so, their rods are still in a defensive position. Both have serious expressions on their faces, suspicious.

"No one in their right mind would trust you after everything they've done to us, Ten." Mike lowers his staff. "But we're going to give you a... Chance, I'll do it for her, not for you. El believes in second chances, not me or Will, none of us believe you."

Ten, who leans over and looks at the red patch that forms on his chest, seems relieved by the distance between him and the two teenagers' toes.

"Let's give that credit to you," Mike continues indifferently. "But, you know, any step of yours out of the line, any clue that you're wrapping us up and acting at the behest of Brenner ... Well, you'll know what's going to happen to you."

Mike was always the leader of their small group, always the one who took the lead in all matters and frankly, there was never any opposition to this since none of them wanted to claim such a position. Even though he was the leader, Mike had never been intimidating with anyone (his lean body and nerdy behavior were not an incentive to it), but apparently there was an exception to that.

At that moment, even being a great nerd, Mike was able to let go of it all and take a haughty stance. His eyes glowed dark and dangerous, his pale skin smeared with bruises giving him an air of someone who ... He had been through really bad things. It was not the Mike he was accustomed to; was someone emotionally disturbed, someone who was willing to do anything ... Someone he didn’t know and knew how to control.

"And just out of curiosity." Ten swallowed. "What's going to happen to me, Wheeler?"

Will just blinked his eyes, it was no more than that, and it had all happened. The sound of Mike's clenched fist meeting Ten's jaw was ominous and cloying, definitely something Will wouldn’t want to witness a second time. Ten does not fall, remains in the same place, one hand resting under the jaw and blue eyes shocked.

Mike is still in the same place, it does not even seem like he moved or hurt. His eyes, Will notes, are flashing with anger.

Holly shit!

"MIKE!" Will exclaims and, fearful that there is retaliation from Ten, runs to his friend. He definitely wouldn’t be leaving Mike alone on that one.

"WHAT THE HELL?!... WHY DID YOU DO THAT, WHEELER ?!"

"DID THAT WHY SINCE I KNEW YOU HAD THE DESIRE OF HITTING YOUR FACE!" Mike voices his fury. "I DID THAT TO GIVE YOU A TASTE OF WHAT I DO IF YOU THINK IN DEFECT OUR TRUST AGAIN."

Where Will's old Mike had backed down at that moment, realizing his mistake, that furious Mike stepped close to Ten and stuck his finger in his face. Mike, dude, think about the shit you're doing.

“DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO BETRAY US AGAIN! THAT WAS A WARNING." He threatens to look like he's about to hit Ten again. "IF YOU STILL WANT TO HELP US, GREAT! IF YOU HAVE CHANGED YOUR IDEA AFTER THAT ... GOOD, FUCK IT! IT'S NOT LIKE WE HAD TO ASK FOR YOUR HELP!"

And then, so abruptly that Will thinks he's going to punch Ten again, Mike turns his back and starts walking away.

"What was that? Why did he do it?"

"I think he was putting some of his anger out." Will is still standing there, puzzled. "You’re still going to help us or will you give up after picking up a nerd?"

"I'll keep my word, Byers."

"WILL, DO YOU COME OR NOT? WE HAVE TO COME BACK!"

Will remembers El's words and begins to think that maybe the part about Mike's likely inconsistency is more than right. God, he'd always had to control Max, Dustin, and Lucas so that the three of them wouldn’t exceed the limits of what was acceptable; he had never had to do it with Mike, who had always been the most conscious of them all. But, well, there's always a first time for everything.

               


	15. My heart is damaged in the vein

December 18, 1987

The idea of working with Ten isn’t well accepted by Max, Dustin or Lucas and Mike frankly can’t blame them for the feeling of mistrust. The guy lied and cheated cheekily; trusting him was almost like shooting his own foot, so risky and foolish it was. However, trusting Ten and keeping him close was a way to get El back and he would be doing anything to get her back.

Anything was worth it if he could bring El back home.

"He’ll not betray us again" Mike warrants, looking cynically at Ten and smiling at how swollen his jaw is. "He’ll not be an idiot to the point of betraying us again, right, Ten?"

Everyone contemplates Ten in heavy silence, not knowing what to do or talk until Max takes action. The redhead, with all her confident pose, walks up to the blue-eyed boy and grabs his face to gauge. She smiles as she walks away and meets Mike's eyes, but does not say anything. Whatever she is thinking ends up being kept for herself.

From that moment on, no one speaks much, an occasional word here and there in failed attempts to appease the journey back home, but nothing that initiates a civilized dialogue. Mike is okay with this since he does not really want to talk.

Punching Ten was an impulsive act that Mike does not regret or think he might regret someday of his life. Doing this gave him a brief twelve seconds of jubilation and pleasure until the initial void returned with full force.

The pain in his hand is insistent and sharp (bloody joints are getting swollen), but nothing can compare to the pain he carries in his chest. In the place where his heart should be pulsing, strong and vigorous, there is now a huge hole that pulses pain to his body. The only remedy that can stabilize his situation is far, at the hands of a psychotic, and no date for return.

What he feels now, this chest pain, is an improved version of the pain he felt in 1983. Now, looking back, Mike knows that the hiatus between 1983 and 1984 was a preparation for everything he was feeling at that moment . Even so, even with the preparation for the worst, the pain is still unbearable and makes Mike want to end it all. But he does not surrender to this desire, not when the possibility of having El back still exists.

Mike has been trying not to think about what Brenner and Nissa are doing with El, doing so would take away the rest of his sanity; he prefers to think about what he will do when she is back with him, safe and sound. Stuff her up, give her whatever she wants (no matter what), stay close to her until she's thrown out and say "I love you" loud and proud. He would be doing it many times, whenever possible, with each and every breath of her and him.

He definitely would not be resigning himself to hiding the love he felt for her, he would not be avoiding saying "I love you." El deserved to hear him return the three magic words.

Mike walks blindly, ignoring everything and everyone, especially Ten's presence. He wants to ignore Ten, pretend he does not exist and that he never fucked up with their lives; but this is definitely not possible, especially when Ten has crucial information about El. That does not mean Mike does not want to go back and hit another punch in his face when the stupidly blue-eyed kid talks to him.

"Hey" He calls and even without looking, Mike knows he's approaching. "I want to know where I'm staying, I guess I'm no longer welcome at El's house after all, and ... I have nowhere to go, I've never had a place to go, do you have any idea where I can stay?"

His irrational side, the one who has controlled him in the last hours, urges him to answer loud and clear, _"Fuck it! That's none of my business!"_ and this is the answer that is already on his tongue when El image appears and freezes. She is always kind and makes his kindly side brighten. El always makes him want to be a good one.

Still refusing to look at Ten, Karen Wheeler's son turns to Will.

"Do you think he can stay in your home's warehouse? It's a great place to hide him and ... Also to keep an eye on him to see if he will or will not do some shit."

"I will not do any shit!" Ten gets indignant at the comment. "I have already given my word and you should believe me."

"The last person who faithfully believed you is now abducted and probably being a victim of cold and cruel torture." Dustin remembers coolly. "No one here will believe the crap of your word. Your word is of no value to us. We are keeping you here out of necessity. Accept it, asshole."

"I'm here out of necessity, brat."

"Brat? How old you’re, motherfucker? You can’t call me a brat if we have the same age!"

"I'm nineteen, almost twenty. I'm older than you, stupid." Ten spits out the words. "Nissa is also the same age. We are twins."

"I did not ask if you were twins or not, asshole!"

"Yeah, you really did not seem too interested in whether or not she had a brother when you were sucking her face two days ago!"

"I did not know she would be a traitor bitch and would kidnap my friend!"

"My sister can be anything but not a traitor bitch!"

"Of course she's a traitor bitch! Look what she did to us. On a scale, you're less of a son of a bitch than she is."

"Brat..."

" _ENOUGH!_ He can stay in the warehouse, Mike. End of all this shit. "Will interrupts Ten and Dustin's discussion in exasperation." Can we please stop talking about what's possibly going on with El? "

"Yes," Lucas agrees. "It's horrible to think that El is being tortured."

"Not to mention that ..." Max's voice fails. "It hurts to think that someone is doing something to her. I mean, she's so ... Why would anyone want to hurt El?"

"Seriously, guys!" Will hisses threateningly and, out of the corner of his eye, Mike sees the boy pointing at him with as much subtlety as he has. "Stop it, okay ?! Stop talking about it! This isn’t good for anyone."

No matter how much they stopped talking, however much the conspiracy theories about what was possibly going on had ceased, this did not soothe the concern that had finally seized the body of the freckled boy. The others had managed to make the fear of what was happening to El, with uncertainty and horror take over. The idea of a future and all that he could do next to El when she returned was getting farther and farther away, the horror making her blurry.

Brenner wasn’t the type to torture his victim; he had other obscure methods before getting to the point of torturing someone. El's exaggerated claustrophobia, her fear of being in dark places alone, the aversion to swimming pools, her constant panic attacks, her psychologically shaken… All this made it clear how destructive her childhood had been, how cruel Brenner had been with her, and with every one of her little childish and sullen rebellions. If he had done all this to her as a child, what could he do now? How far would he get to make her contribute?

And there was still Nissa. The blond-haired girl who had made him squirm in pain and had promised, looking into his eyes, torturing El to the point that she wanted death. Mike knows that El is strong, that behind her delicate and small body structure there is an uncontrollable strength, but no one can resist the pain for long. No one can bear the pain for long without asking for help.

Trying to avoid an impending panic attack, Mike breathes and inhales slowly while counting up to three mentally. **One, two, three.** I can’t freak out. **One, two, three.** I can’t lose my temper. **One, two, three.** I can’t and will not freak out or lose my head in front of anyone. Nobody will see me cry.

And he does not cry. Swallowing the cry, after years of living beneath the roof of Ted Wheeler and being indoctrinated not to cry ("Men do not cry, boy, for nothing and no one."), It's easy.

"Can you get him to the warehouse, Will?" Mike asks after a while, drawing everyone's glances to himself. El's house is already quite visible in his field of vision. "I ... I do not think I can stand another minute standing."

It was true, but not the complete truth.

Despite the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion, what motivated Mike to avoid the old depot is the fact that he does not want to see Ten where he and El had sneaked around several times, he does not want Ten to be in the midst of memories he has the warehouse. At Mike's house the two had Mike's basement and at El's house the two had the old warehouse, a place where no one dared to go. It was the place of privacy of the two, where they went to be alone and away from glances that at certain moments were undesirable.

"I'll take him in. No problem." Will responds and the kindness in his voice makes Mike wonder if he knows why he is so reluctant. "I can handle it."

"You’re sure?" Mike asks, now sorry for his selfishness. What if Ten tried to do something with Will? "I mean..."

"Dude, believe me. Relax."

"And we're with him." Dustin reassures himself by pointing to himself and Max and Lucas. He seems guilty of something that the haze of confusion that surrounds Mike's mind does not allow him to sue. "Nothing will happen. You can go."

There is a last moment of hesitation before he heads toward El and Will's house. In his mind everyone was already asleep, taking care of their own sorrows or trying to plot a plan to find Brenner. No one would be awake to ask where he was coming from or where he was going.

How wrong his conclusions were.

He saw their silhouettes before they even saw their faces. Two small women stood at the entrance of the house, one sitting in the rocking chair pushing the chair back and forth, and the other standing, striding nervously from side to side. Their heads, which before turned constantly to the left and right, clearly focus on him. It’sn’t necessary to be a genius to know who the two women are, let alone who it’s: Mike would recognize his sister and her nervous tic to move from one place to another anywhere and the mother of El and Will, Joyce ... Well, it was easily recognizable every time.

Nancy's reaction when she sees him is immediate: she jumps out of her position and immediately rushes toward him and embraces him. She is disheveled, her clothes are strange on her body (dented jeans, old white T-shirt and a coat that clearly isn’t hers) and his touch when he hugs her is tight and desperate. His shirt is getting wet and he does not know the reason until Nancy walks away and he sees the tears that stain his face.

She was crying.

"Mike ... Oh my God, Mike ... You scared me, Stupid!" The blonde has a hard time doing so, but hits a slap on the younger boy's head. It's hard enough to make him grumble in indignation. "Your ... Your ... Your big dumb, stupid, inconsequential, retarded..."

Nancy's tears become more noticeable and her face begins to turn red under the moonlight and the porch of the house as she brings out slaps and punches on him. Her movements are no longer so heavy or cause so much pain, but they are filled with inconstancy and frighten him to the point of pushing him back. Nancy accompanies him so he can keep hitting him.

"Ouch, Nance!" He complains when a slap in his chest is particularly sore. It's nothing compared to Ted's slap, but still it's uncomfortable. "Why you’re beating me? What have I done?

When the blonde's face contorts with anger he knows he's asked the wrong question.

"What have you done? What have you done?! You scared me to death, you idiot! You disappeared and did not even leave a note to let me know where you went or if you would." More slaps and tears. "You did not think I'd be worried, Michael Wheeler?! Why did I stay, right? I was terribly worried. I thought something horrible had happened to you, that you idiot had decided to do something stupid."

“I did not do nothing.”

"I do not know, Mike. I imagined so many things, really bad things."

"I just wanted some air." It's not a lie. No way. That house that wasn’t his was making him uncomfortable. "I wanted to breathe."

It’s these few words that disarm the "time bomb" mode that Nancy had joined. Her expression softens, and the same hands that struck with lids and punches begin to grope him over. The wrinkle between her eyebrows makes Nancy look very much like her mother. They were both beautiful.

Mike glanced over his sister's head toward the porch of the house, Will and El's mother.

Joyce did not abandon her position, and although she had not approached the two brothers, she watched them closely. She has her eyes on him and when she realizes that he watches her back she just shrugs and back and her starting position, waiting for Will.

"You’re okay? You’re hurt?" The blonde studies him from head to toe, blue eyes restless. "You're hungry? You did not even touch your food today at dinner.”

"Nance, that's fine." He says trying to get away from his older sister and her concern. "I just need to get some sleep."

"And you go to sleep, Mike, but only after eating a sandwich." Nancy determines by grabbing one of his arms and throwing it over herself before running both hands down his waist. "Peanut butter and jelly is still your favorite, right? And hot chocolate, do you still like this?"

Too stunned to retaliate or move away, Mike allows the blonde to guide him inside. He does not spare one last glance toward Joyce, who keeps watching them. She smiles sadly at him, her red eyes soon returning to her search for Will.

 _I'm sorry,_ he wants to tell her while Nance tugs him. _I could not protect her._ No word comes out of his lips after all. Nothing seems good enough for him to start a good apology for allowing her daughter to be kidnapped. Nothing would probably be good enough.

"Hopper already knows?" Mike asks when Nancy, with an iron determination, forces him to sit down at the table. The two are alone in the kitchen and Joyce is still outside. "He already knows ..." He chokes. "Has anyone ever told him about El?"

Nancy Wheeler for her move of jam jams on bread, her blue eyes wide with her brother's question. The woman in front of him was different from the girl with whom he had grown up; this Nancy was someone new and strong, forged by the pain of losing her best friend and blaming herself for everything that happened.

Was she thinking of Barb, her best friend from the nursery, when she looked in the room and did not find him? Had the sentimental outbursts been caused by the memory of all that had happened, or only because of her older sister's concern? Maybe both. Well, Mike would never know the answer to that; he would not be intrusive enough to ask her that. Barb was still a delicate subject.

The blonde's breakup does not last long, she's still very good at catching up and pretending that everything's fine.

"He knows, Mike." Her hands go back to the sandwich he knows he will not eat even half of. A tactic not to look directly at him. "Jonathan told him earlier today. He ... He's going to have to stay in the hospital for a few more days. You want your sandwich with too much or too little jelly?"

That shakes him a lot. Hopper, who was likely to be discharged the next morning, would be hospitalized for a while longer.

"A few more days at the hospital? Why?"

Nancy puts the sandwich on a plate and starts preparing a glass of hot chocolate, her deliberately slow movements making clear her reluctance to talk about it. The boy can almost see regret for winding the subject by buzzing inside her head.

"Nance." He laid his head on the table, too tired to continue in the position he was in. His voice, as well as pleading, sounds tired (and a little tearful if he's brave enough to admit it to himself). "What happened? Did he get worse?"

"He could not have strong emotions, Mike, not in the state he was in. It turned out that he ... Well, Jonathan said that his heart started beating very fast and then it started to stop." She pauses. "But he's better now. It was just a scare. No big deal. Within two or three days he gets high."

He tried to nod positively, and in view of the difficulty his position gave him, he merely murmured a few words to show that he had understood his sister's words. He could not imagine how the people around Hopper had felt at the time or at Hopper himself, the intimidating Sheriff of Hawkins who happened to be the father of his girlfriend in such a vulnerable position.

Everyone has their weak point, some more weaknesses than the others. No one is exempt from this. Jim Hopper's weak spot was the possible loss of his second daughter, his mind and heart still marked by the trauma caused by the death of his Sara (Mike had heard about the girl many times before, he knew her story and everything that had happened. El had told him everything, and sometimes she was sorry she had never met Sara). Will's weak spot was Demogorgon and his father, the man's rejection. And there was his weak spot; the girl who had his heart in his hands and who could do whatever it was that he would never recriminate her.

It wasn’t something he wanted to brag about or make him happy, but Mike knew he was the weak link in their relationship, the Achilles heel they could use against El to hit her. He knew that from the moment he laid eyes on that little girl with a shaved head and bloody nose. El was strong, fearless, she had nerves of steel, while he ... He was just an idiot and ungainly boy from Hawkins, the nerd even his father disliked. It was a miracle she liked him.

She was a real miracle, his miracle.

As anticipated, there is no way to make him eat whatever Nancy prepares and puts before him. Nothing seems to fall to his stomach; everything seems heavy and as soon as the automatic reaction comes in it's going out. He does not vomit, though, forcing himself to swallow each small piece of sandwich with the help of hot chocolate.

"Just a little bit, Mickey." She stands behind his chair, grooming his messy hair gingerly. "You need to feed yourself right. You can’t go on hunger strike."

"I'm not on hunger strike." Mike pushes the plate away from him with one hand and the other pulling her hand away from his hair. Her movement was making him drowsy. "I'm just not hungry. I want to sleep, Nance, pleas..."

"What was that in your hand, Michael Theodore Wheeler?" The blonde hisses suddenly, grabbing the bruised hand to study. "Was it Daddy? Did Daddy do it with your hand?"

Holy shit!

With the instinctive sense of self-protection flailing in his chest, Mike stands up from his chair and stares at the blonde he has as his sister. His hand is hidden in his sweater and his position is defensive.

"It's nothing!" He exclaims looking for a way to dribble Nancy and escape. "I ... I hit a guy, that's it.

For most teens pulling a fight out there wasn’t something really important or strange, but for him it was. He wasn’t that kind of guy and Nancy would not be letting it go so easily.

"You punched a guy, Michael? You got into a fight?" She sounds incredulous. "Since when do you do this?"

"Since today. It's nothing, Nance. I can swear." He pushed his hand deeper. It hurt to do that, but he definitely would not let her out of sight. "Can I go to sleep?"

"Your hand needs care. It's horrible, Mickey." New tears appear in her eyes. "I... I can handle this. Mom taught me how to take care of injuries."

She also taught me, Mike wants to respond, but ends up keeping the answer to himself in the face of the vulnerability of his sister. She wants to feel present in his life and it does not hurt to let this illusion dominate your life for a few minutes or a night.

"There's a first-aid box in El's room." Mike murmurs, pulling his rucksack off the floor and heading for the stairs, watching Nancy accompany him. "She wore it last night before ... She wore it last night."

He feels nothing when he sits down on El's bed and allows Nancy to take his hand. The only thing that exists inside him is the emptiness, although it has been considerably softened by being there in her room. The smell of it, which is impregnated in her sheets and in every corner of the room, diminishes the anguish he feels. It's almost a consolation.

But isn’t a complete consolation, because absolutely nothing but her presence can truly console you. El isn’t there with him. Nothing can be a good enough consolation to lessen pain and distress.

Mike did not cry the night before after the news of the end of his perfect family, he did not cry or let the sadness overwhelm him, nor did he shed a single tear since Will found him on the floor. But then they arise, insistent and persevering, and he can no longer control them. He begins to cry when Nancy touches his hand and the memory of El's touch arises; El's touch would have been a thousand times more delicate and warm. Not that Nancy wasn’t careful and kind, she was; but she wasn’t El. She wasn’t the person Mike wanted there on his side.

Nancy does not seem shocked at his outburst, quite the opposite; she acts like she's already been waiting for it, almost seems relieved. It does not take long for her to nestle close to him, her arms protectively around him as she murmurs tender words that should calm him.

Nothing calms him down and the only thing that comes into him, when Nancy says, "Alright, Mike." with his voice in a tone long unknown to him, and that causes him to be seized by a scorching outrage. Things are not all right. Nothing in his life is alright. Ted Wheeler beat him up and beat him more if they had not stopped him, he was temporarily homeless as he was out of the picture to come home while Ted was there and his girlfriend, who was once just a little disturbed and slightly depressed, was now in the hands the same psychopath who had destroyed her childhood.

His life was shit, complete shit, and he just could not stop crying. It was so pathetic.

Shaking from head to foot, Mike buries his face into his sister's lap and allows the sadness and guilt that has run through his veins all day long to come out. Because the guilt is there. The guilt for losing her, for allowing Brenner to take her... The guilt for promising her that everything would be all right. A broken promise.

Mike does not know how much time he's crying or when all that's left is the sound of his dry sobs and the sweet murmur that comes from Nancy's lips. Part of his brain, the small part that has not been affected by the pain, notices that she is humming softly the same song that their mother used to sing when they were little. It’s beautiful and at the same time sad.

"I'll stay here with you, okay?" Nancy whispered weakly, one of her hands caressing his hair in a way that made him slow and slightly drowsy. "I'll stay here until you sleep. It'll be okay, little brother ... It'll be fine. She'll be back. El will come back to you and everything will be fine again. It'll be fine."

His sister hums again and, after a while, exhaustion ends up overpowering him. He focuses on the melody that echoes through the room, something really dumb to do when you're struggling with sleep. Soon her eyelids begin to weigh, and after a reluctant yawn (which makes Nancy's humming sound more happy and satisfied), he finally closes his eyes and sleeps.

His sleep is troubled and full of distorted images. Flashes of truly unpleasant images and all related to El. Somehow Mike knows that everything is real. Her cries are real, the tears are real, the sadness is real... Everything is real. Mike already knows how to differ the normal dreams from the dreams / memories that El shares with him.

It's all so horrible that as he crawls out of bed and picks up the backpack he'd carried during his walk in the woods, Mike knows he has no preference for reality or the dream world; the two are shit and there are very few differences between the two.

Wiping the silent tears that insistently stained his face and that he does not even know when he started to spill them, Mike sits on the floor and starts rummaging through his backpack until he finds El's teddy (he smells her, so he hugs) and her diary. The bedside clock ticks four o'clock in the morning, and that means he can already work on El's diary without fearing he's breaking the terms she's explained.

"Please," Mike pleaded under his breath. "Please have something for me, El."

And El really left something for him. The letter that falls out of her diary causes him to feel his insides slightly warmer. She left something for him and in that moment of loneliness and sadness, it's almost like having her back for a few seconds. He can almost hear her voice, feel his presence when he opens the letter and begins to read.

 

_Hi, my favorite paladin!_

_I'm writing this letter while you sleep, and as cute as you can go to sleep (your hair looks like a nest of birds and you seem to forget that the world is still spinning or that we're stuck in a pile of trouble), this fact isn’t enough to lessen the bad omen that hurts in my chest. Well, it's just a bad omen, if it's silly of me, you're never going to read it, but if it's not ... Well, it's obvious what's going to happen if it's not a silly thing of mine._

_First of all, my love, we need to talk about all this happening. You can’t blame yourself for this, you can’t blame yourself for Brenner taking me. It's not your fault, okay? None of this is your fault and you need to understand this so you can stop getting tormenting. You are the strongest and most courageous person I have ever known in all my life. You're not to blame for Brenner taking me. You are not weak._

_Even today it scares me how selfless you can be to defend or save someone you care about. Mike, you know all the brave things you've done in your life, how many times have you been strong and brave? When I met you, a boy of twelve was in the woods looking for his missing friend. Then you hid me in your basement, even knowing how long your punishment would be if your parents took both of us. He jumped from a quarry (idiot, I can’t say that this was stupid, they would not hurt Dustin, not really) and then ran away from armed people to defend me because, I think we both know that, at that point it wasn’t just about finding Will with my powers._

_You protected me (a girl I'd known less than a week ago), stayed by my side after the little blast we made at school, and later, after I got out of the makeshift tub, took my hand when I was too scared to run and mainly tried to face adult men just to defend myself. This, to me, is a sign of strength and courage. Mike, you do not have to have the muscles to be strong._

_Although I know of your strength, I do not want you to get hurt for me; the only thing I want is to have you whole when I come home. I swear to God, Mike, that if you hurt yourself because of me, even a scratch, I'll never forgive myself. I know you want to prove yourself, show everyone that you can defend me, but put it aside and think a little more rationally. Do not be too impulsive and please do not do anything stupid. Let the part of being idiot for Troy, James and Will's girlfriend (I've already said that I do not like her, so I do not like her, she's too snobby for my brother). We are not idiots, especially in situations like this now._

_You know what? If you feel too lonely, too scared to put out everything you are feeling (fear, anger, anguish), you can talk to me. I will not be able to hold you or kiss you, I will not be able to comfort you, but I'll be listening to you. Even if the Brenner got me, even locked, I'll be listening to you and sometimes I'll see you. I will not leave you alone, Mike. Never._

_I love you, you know that, right? I made it a point that you heard this from my mouth and now I make a point of leaving my love in writing, so that you can read and remember me. I'm not saying that I love you just for fearing Brenner and what he can do. Nope. I'm saying that I love you because I love you. I think I've wanted to say it for a long time, but shyness never allowed me to. I love you, I love you with all my might, I love you from the first moment I saw you, or at least after you take the light from your flashlight off my face and then allow me to see you. I think I started to love you before you even know the meaning of love._

_And, one last thing: do not worry about how long it will take me to return home. The important thing, I think what is most relevant here, is that I will return. This isn’t something permanent, I do not intend to allow it to be. I'll get back to you._

_With love,_

_Ellie Jane Hopper, your El._

Mike folds the letter carefully and holds it in El's diary, fully aware that he will read it every night. He is numb, his mind always swift now slow compared to the racing beat of his heart. Slowly, his mind chooses a single fact (of the many) to stick to: El said she could hear him, she said she could ...

Feeling hopeful, the boy closes his eyes and tries to visualize the image of El, to imagine that she is actually there in front of him with his wild brown hair, bright eyes and loving smile that said a thousand words per minute. All right, now it was easier...

"Hey, El, I ... It's not even one day that Brenner took you, you're away from me, but I already miss you in a way that hurts so much." He pauses to hide his face between his knees. "I know you said you did not want me to get hurt, but I think it's kind of late for you to ask me that. I think I've already hurt myself, that's the only explanation for the pain I'm feeling right now."

El's delusional image smiles gently at him, a sympathetic smile.

"I feel like I've failed you, El, mainly because I did not say I love you at the right time, for you to hear." He swallows hard. "I love you, El, I love you in a way that sometimes I can’t even understand how insane it feels. You do not know what I would have to have you here by my side now, not only to hear this, but also to be out of danger. I love you, El. I love you. El ... You have to get back to me. I need you by my side. I need you in every way and I do not think I can survive if you do not come back to me. Please, El ... I love you. "

He chokes on his own tears, and this does not happen out of fear and out of sorrow and anticipation. She isn’t really there to hear him. It’sn’t certain that she is listening to him at that moment. Or that she is well enough to even try to listen to him.

Mike stumbles over his diary on El's bed and, clinging to her teddy bear, advances toward the bedroom across the hall: the room Nancy is sleeping in. She, who for his relief is without Jonathan's company (and isn’t doing anything compromising), lifts his head as soon as the door opens and stares him with half-closed eyes as if it were a view of another world.

"Mike?" She sits on the bed, disoriented by sleep. "I let you sleep. Is there a problem?"

"H-hey, Nance." His voice is pathetic and hoarse. "I-I had a nightmare. I can’t sleep."

If it was a few years ago, after Nancy changed school and became obsessed with Steve Harrington and before the Demogorgon, the older girl would probably have rolled her eyes and mumbling something against Mike. Now, however, she just seemed pitiful and sat on the bed.

Mike felt pathetic as he stood in the doorway of his older sister's room; anyone felt pathetic. But all he knew was that he felt lost, that he wanted to talk and was comforted by someone, and since El wasn’t there, the only person left was Nancy.

"Come here." Nancy waves to him as he approaches, and he does, his feet dragging against the icy floor during the process. "You know what's strange?"

That you're changing the subject so we can’t talk about how pathetic I'm being? He mentally inquires, even though he nods in denial as he snuggles the warm bed covers. Nancy wraps her arms around his body and drags him close to her, each movement careful and calculated.

"It's strange living in a house without you to irritate me and put syrup in my food without permission." She caresses his hair and this, added to the emotional fatigue, makes him feel sleepy. Quick and easy, sleep was already there. "It's also very strange that you are taller than I. I mean, I go out to college, and when I come back to Christmas I find you kind, ten times my height."

"There are three names for this: growth spurt, puberty and passage of years. You can choose one." He joked before he yawned. "Nance, can I sleep here with you?"

"Do you really think you need to ask, Michael?" One of her hands runs from his hair and caresses his face, more specifically, the bruise on his face. "You can be sixteen, seventeen and even thirty years old, but you will still be my little brother and you can come and sleep with me whenever you want."

"And Jonathan? He certainly will not like this?"

"You see Jonathan here, Mickey? He's with his brother. I have you and Holly and he has Will and El. We have our brothers to care for." She sighs. "Now, sleep, okay? I know I can’t promise tomorrow everything will be fine, but ... But at least you'll be a little better." "Mom and I need to talk to you."

"About what?" He insists, his eyes struggling to remain open.

"Nothing you should worry about now. Sleep, I'll stay here with you, I promise."

Even though he isn’t sleeping in the arms of the person he most wants in the world right now, the person who makes him feel happy for nothing at all, Mike sleeps. Nancy is enough to console him at that moment, even if she isn’t El.


	16. Notice

Hi, guys, anyone in there still remembers me and the plot of this fanfic? Well, it's been a long time since I last appeared in person and posted some chapter on that site. But now I'm back and, I can guarantee for sure, soon, soon new chapters will come out.

Kisses and hugs.


	17. Each fight their battles and their priorities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I wish I could write something long, explaining my disappearance, but I believe that everyone has already understood this and repeating it would only become annoying and dampened. Forget the explanations. I'm here, finally with a new computer, with a new chapter and, I believe, just like you, waiting for the season 3 trailer to leave.
> 
> XOXOXO

December 18, 1987

The Byers-Hopper house is surprisingly quiet that morning. Everyone is busy, some talking quietly in small groups and others simply isolated, dealing with their own pain, when the loud ringing of the bell echoed sharply.

 

Mike, who was about to begin reading El's diary, shudders to remember that the same sound, the day before, had been the harbinger of all the misery that plagued them. After a long moment of shock, where no one implies that he will leave his position, he leaves his place (sitting on the stairs where he could be hidden from the pious looks of his friends) and answers the door still with the girlfriend's diary in your hands. No doubt I expected to meet anyone but Karen Wheeler and Holly.

 

They stare at each other for a moment, the blond child forgotten. It was as if they were seeing each other for the first time in years. The beautiful, well-groomed blond-haired woman looking shaken like never, and the tall, freckled boy whose pallor is so common and unchanging that hardly any change would be noticed but the onset of a blush. Mother and son.

 

"I went to school today, looking for you." Karen says in a whisper, her eyes sweeping the face of her son. "The principal said you had not been there yesterday or even today."

 

Karen Wheeler, the blond woman always full of pose and with a makeup so well cared for that its aroused glances of envy, throws itself on him. Her movement is careless and catches him by surprise to the point where he stumbles upon himself.

 

"We need to talk, sweetheart." She murmured after a while, pulling away to trace the marks on his face. "We need to deal with really serious matters. I, you and your sister have pending matters."

 

"Mickey!" Holly, who had been keeping quietly shut, raised her arms to him in a silent demand. She snorts when her brother doesn’t look at her or he complies with her request. "Mickey! Get me on your lap now!"

 

"Holly, honey, you're not old enough to do that." Karen scolds and rolls her eyes as the boy grabs Holly in her lap.

 

Now Karen already knew where her younger daughter's craze came from crying when she got a "no" from her; Mike spoiled her, never denying her a request. His girlfriend, the lovely Jane, probably did the same thing. If the two ever get married and have children (not unlikely to judge how they were stuck together and the passionate looks they cast at each other), Karen suspects she will have the most spoiled and full of her grandchildren. want.

 

"You and Jane spoil her too much, Michael. I impose limits, and you two ruin her by giving she everything she wants." She sighs, not in the mood for sermons, be they serious or joking. "It's not that Holly wants to spend so much time with you both. Please tell me you don’t fill her with candy whenever she asks?"

 

"El will not let me give her too much candy." The boy responds by snuggling his sister closer to him, his voice monotonous even as Holly moves to ruffle her hair. "She knows how to set limits."

 

He doesn’t know how to deal with the words "We need to talk". The terror of his dreams was always that El approached him saying that because if she did, it would mean that he would be pushing a foot in his ass. Being who she was (a beautiful, gentle, cool, hot girl who was a lot of sand to a nerd like him), Mike thanked the skies every day for her to stay next to him, in love with him. However, even though he wasn’t talking about it, but his mother, who didn’t stop a chill from shaking him. More hassles came along.

 

As he nodded to show that he wasn’t reluctant to talk, he searched for something in his mother to indicate what was to come. More specifically, he searched for some bruising on her body or on her face. Ted had never beaten her before, but since he had never raised his hand to one of his kids before, it was always good to check. No bruise adorned the face or body of Karen Wheeler, and if it were not for her grave expression, he would even feel more relieved.

 

As soon as Nancy quit her breakfast washing work ("You can let Jonathan and I take care of that." She had said to Joyce, a kind smile on her lips as she nudged his boyfriend so he would imitate her. "Joyce, you just need a little rest, okay? It's not like we didn’t do that in our apartment.") and joined them on the porch of the house, the air became frighteningly denser and filled with tension. 11

 

His sister looked a lot better than she'd worn it the night before. Her blond hair was combed in a weird braid, and although her clothes looked ... too soft and too tight to belong to her, they were lined up enough for her to continue with her aristocratic air. In fact, that dress she was wearing looked a lot like the one El had worn in one of her movies, the jacket too. Very...

 

"These clothes are from El." He pointed without hiding his indignation. "It's my girlfriend's clothes."

 

He remembers dragging himself to Nancy's bed the night before, crying in her arms like a needy child. That didn’t diminish the burning that hits him in full. Inside his head, created by loneliness and longing, there was a feeling that made him believe it was wrong that Nancy was wearing El's clothes without her permission. The clothes were wrong on Nancy's body. They only looked good in El. Only in her. They belonged only to her. Holly, sensing her brother's condition and always willing to pry Nancy after her departure for New York, wraps her hands around his neck before murmuring words of support for what he had said:

 

"It's Janie's clothes. You can’t go out and get Janie's clothes." Holly blows with surprising air of arrogance. "Did you steal Janie's clothes?"

 

It is Holly's reaction that brings Mike back to reality and that makes him realize how foolish and childish he is. It's okay for Nancy to wear El's clothes, she would not mind anyway.

 

"Okay, she lent you, didn’t she? Jane lent to her, Holly.” He squeezes his little sister's body against him as Nancy gives him a look of gratitude as well as reproach. Confused. "What do you want to talk about?"

 

Nancy and his mother exchange glances that are not only indicative of a complicity between the two (something Mike had never had with anyone but his family) and that they both knew something he didn’t know, that they had planned something that he didn’t he knew what it was and he certainly would not like it.

 

"All right, dear, it's nothing to worry about." Karen tries to reassure him, but his complacent tone only serves to make him more restless. "I've been thinking that it would be good for the three of us, me, you and Holly, to give Hawkins time, a neutral environment."

 

“Neutral environment?" He alternates his gaze between the two blond women, dissatisfied with the direction of that conversation. "A little more clarity, yes?"

 

"Mom will enjoy the Christmas recess and will take us to Grandpa and Grandma's house." Nancy vomits the words over him. "Let's spend the New Year there."

 

Holly grunts as Mike's grip around her becomes harsher and less gentle, but the sense of betrayal that shines inside him makes him ignore it and everything Nancy continues to speak. Doesn’t matter. Nothing she can say matters or changes anything within his mind.

 

Holly grunts as Mike's grip around her becomes harsher and less gentle, but the sense of betrayal that shines inside him makes him ignore it and everything Nancy continues to speak. Doesn’t matter. Nothing she can say matters or changes anything within his mind.

 

It was simple and tortuous: she was suggesting ... She was communicating a decision that didn’t have the option to be discussed. Both, Karen and Nancy, had decided without asking for their opinion. His grief wasn’t directed at his mother, the woman who was just being rational in trying to escape to her old parents' home or to Nancy, who was trying to protect him and Holly from the pain of separating Karen and Ted Wheeler. All this was reasonable and understanding.

 

What bothered him in that situation was the imposition they were making on him or the fact that they had not even asked for his opinion on the subject. Mike, who was desperate to save El, was being summoned to leave Hawkins and go hide in another town. Of course it wasn’t, but in his mind, now more disturbed than ever, it sounded like betrayal. Accepting it without hesitation would be like betraying, abandoning El, and that would be something he would not be doing.

 

Mike loved his grandparents, loved his mother and his sisters, but none of them were in danger of life. No one on that list had been abducted or was being tortured in private jail. That was El's situation.

 

"I’m not going anywhere." There is no way he will not be surprised at why, even burning with rage and bleeding for El, his voice is still contained. No anger at all. "I'm staying here in Hawkins."

 

Karen widens her dark eyes toward her son as every color drips from her face. Michael, among her three children, had always been the most sympathetic and cooperative. It was he who helped her with the housework or caring for Holly, who had perfect grades and good demeanor and who in exchange for all this asked for the basement for himself and his friends and ... Well, a time with his girlfriend.

 

Karen widens her dark eyes toward her son as every color drips from her face. Michael, among her three children, had always been the most sympathetic and cooperative. It was he who helped her with the housework or caring for Holly, who had perfect grades and good demeanor and who in exchange for all this asked for the basement for himself and his friends and ... Well, a time with his girlfriend.

 

And now here he was, the only understanding child in her life, stamping his foot and determining that he didn’t want to leave Hawkins. Karen wasn’t going to allow it, of course.

 

"Mike, dear, it's not permanent." She tries to persuade him softly. Softness always works with Mike. "It's only for a few days, just until ..."

 

Karen doesn’t finish the sentence because she doesn’t want Holly to know what's going on, they're leaving Hawkins to give Ted enough time to get his things together and get out of their house and out of their lives.

 

"I know, Mom." Mike replies. "But that doesn’t change anything, I'm not going there, I'm going to stay here.”

 

"For what?"

 

"My things, Mother." He moaned mortified at her insistence. If it was Nancy, she certainly would not be so tough. “Listen, If you're worried I'll come home, well, I will not. I can stay here at Will's house or ... Or the basement of one of the guys or Max Mayfield's. "

 

"Michael, you will not sleep in the basement of one of your friends."

 

"Come on, Mike." It's Nancy's turn to try to persuade him, something she's never been too good at. "It'll be good to get out of Hawkins, breathe fresh air."

 

If Mike had laser vision just like the superman did, Nancy would surely have two little holes in his chest. At that moment it doesn’t matter that she sheltered him in her bed the night before, the only thing that matters to him is that she's trying to get him out of Hawkins and the possibility of finding El.

 

Nancy, who knew how much he wanted El back, who had seen him crying with grief, was trying to shake him off.

 

"I don’t want to breathe new airs, which, incidentally, doesn’t apply to Grandpa and Grandma's house, I want to stay here."

 

"That's not up for discussion, Michael." Karen intercepts the two older children, aware of how quickly a conversation between the two could become flammable. She was tired of Mike's stubbornness, too. Why, she wondered, did he have to choose to be a stubborn teenager just today? "You're underage and you still have to obey me. We're going to your grandparents' house after lunch. Get ready. No further discussion."

 

Holly is still in his arms, so he has to restrain himself and can’t explode as he wants to do. The only thing he can do is shake his head in disbelief.

 

"Nothing is ever in dispute with me." He hissed and tried to ignore the way Holly clings more firmly to him after that. "You two just decide things and fuck up my opinion! My opinion is not worth anything to Dad or to you."

 

With Holly clinging to him like a big blond koala, Mike tries to sidetrack his mother and older sister and head for the shed.

 

He knows he can’t go against his mother, who will eventually go to his grandparents' house anyway, so he needs to talk one last time with Ten to know what he can do to help.

 

His mother keeps him from giving over two steps by gripping his arm.

 

"What do you mean, son? Of course your opinion counts."

 

"Swear? Because the 'you're under age thing and you have to obey me' didn’t make it sound like that." Mike backs off, forcing her to let him go. "You two just decided that we were going to leave Hawkins and didn’t even consult with me."

 

"Michael, if it's about Jane ... Well, I heard she's at her aunt's house and Becky lives in the same town as her grandparents so ..."

 

Mike's blood boils when his mother quotes the name of El and Becky. That's the story running through town to justify El's absence, his mother doesn’t know the truth. Knowing this doesn’t change anything, not the way it feels.

 

"It's not about her ... It's about her, I mean ..." He shook his head, stunned. He wasn’t going to win that argument and didn’t want to hurt his mother with words either. It was over. “After lunch I'll be ready."

 

"Mike, dear ..."

 

"My clothes are already tidy, I never took them out of my backpack, anyway." He continues to speak, the feeling of emptiness within himself growing within him. "I ... I'm going to take Holly for a walk. I'll be back at the time you scheduled us to leave."

 

This time no one can stop him from leaving. Silly with anger and still with Holly glued to him, Mike wanders aimlessly. He wants to come back and scream that he will not leave Hawkins, either to knock his foot and reaffirm himself. But that's not him. Mike is the one who takes the orders without question, is the one who chooses to stay at home to go to a party, that takes the girlfriend home instead of going to a more reserved place because needs to take care of the younger sister. He is and always will be only the middle child, the reserve tire, the one who can’t have will of his own.

 

Nancy has always been willful, always had what she wanted. She took the heyday of a normal teenager's life: she went out to parties, dated the city's badboy, drank what she wanted at parties and ... She had lost her best friend. God, what was he doing? Why was he thinking those bad things about Nancy? Was he jealous? Well, it definitely was. There was no way not to be jealous. Nancy had had a perfect teenage years (until Barb happened) while his, if it were not for El, was being shit. Nancy had gotten the privilege of running away from Hawkins and their distraught family while he had been forced to stay there.

 

His sister had everything: she wasn’t forced to live with Ted, her boyfriend wasn’t missing, and even after running away from Hawkins and acting inconsistently several times, she still had the approval of their mother. Even fleeing to New York, it was for her that Karen used when there were problems. So yeah, Mike was jealous. He was just the idiot who cared for Holly while Nancy was still the sunshine, the reason for the existence of everything.

 

The tears came silently. Anger and sorrow. Rejection and homesickness. Why, apparently, all Hawkins, the only person who didn’t see him as a slap, a substitute, was El. The same El who was missing.

 

"They're ruining my life, Holls." Mike whimpers childishly at the girl hiding her face in the hollow of his neck. "I can’t go ... Nancy knows why I can’t go, Mom doesn’t know, but Nancy knows and yet she's doing this to me."

 

To her credit, Holly didn’t say anything about Nancy or the big brother she was so attached to. The little girl, who was accustomed to being consoled, ran her hand over the thick strands of her brother's hair and continued to move because it was what Mike did when she was sad. He also spoke beautiful things, but as she still could not speak like him, she chose to just stroke his hair. Mike kept walking, and before he knew it, he was already in the old Byers-Hopper shed. Ten. He had to talk to Ten. But Holly didn’t know about Ten.

 

 

"Holls," he sniffed, looking at the wooden doors. "You promise to be nice and not tell anybody that?"

 

"That's what, Mike?" She continued stroking (messing) his hair.

 

"There's a guy in there, he ... He's a friend of ours, but only I know he's in Hawkins. We want to surprise, but ..."

 

"I can’t tell about it to anyone?" The blondie deduced with astuteness. "Okay, it's going to be our secret, Mickey."

 

Sighed. He could always count on Holly to help him with these things.

 

"I love you, Holls." He kissed her cheek, one hand pushing the doors. "You're the best."

 

"You're the best, Mickey!" She stated, ignoring the new environment around her. "The best big brother."

 

Mike has difficulty managing four moves at the same time (holding Holly and El's diary, smiling at the girl, closing the doors and drying his face so that Ten doesn’t see him crying), but he manages to turn around and soon he and Holly are facing Ten and the inside of the shed.

 

There was no sense of surprise at finding the Byers-Hopper's organic mess, El and he had been there so many times that the place already had a sense of familiarity. Ten, who was lying on a bed of blankets among a group of boxes stained by ink-splotches, seemed alarmed to see Holly, his blue eyes widening ten times their normal size.

 

Ten's chin was swollen and purple, but noticing it this time didn’t cause Mike any sensation.

 

"This is my little sister, Ten." Mike put Holly on the floor even in the face of her protests. "She's trustworthy. Holly would never tell anyone, right, Holls?"

 

"Okay, Mickey! I'm good at keeping secrets." She squirmed until Mike set her on the floor and then ran to one of the boxes and moved there. "Look, there are some nice things here, Mickey and Mickey's friend!"

 

From that point on, Holly paid no more attention to him or to Ten, completely focused on rummaging through the deposit boxes and giggling with delight at what she found. She had no idea the world was falling apart around her and that was good.

 

He turned to Ten and frowned at the expression the other boy was wearing, or even more specifically, at the blood that ran down his nose.

 

"Are you using your powers?" He hissed, terrified that Ten's target could be Holly. "Look, if you're trying to hurt my sister ..."

 

"I'm not contemplating that possibility." Ten continued with a frown. "I ... Why are you angry? I can feel you, you know?"

 

"Can you? I thought your bid was going to scare people."

 

"My bid is to show the deepest fear of each one, but also ... It's complicated." They both stare at Holly and her advance. "I ... I also have this thing of feeling what you feel and I can also change your feelings. I can make you angry, sad and whatever. It is a momentary thing and it depends on the closeness that I have with the person."

 

Mike wasn’t surprised by that, after all, the conflicting feelings had only arisen with Ten and his approach. El and her hopelessness, Will and his explosions, Max and her uncontrollable fury, he and his unusual confusion; all probably had been Ten's work.

 

"Anyway," the blue-eyed boy continued. "I can feel your anger, resentment, I doubt if all this is directed at me, do you want to talk about it?"

 

Of course, Mike would not be opening his feelings to Ten.

 

"I want to talk about where you think El might be. I'm going out of town with my mom and sisters, something about which they made it clear that I have no choice, and I want to know what I can do to help find El from afar. "

 

"Dude, I already told you. Brenner can be anywhere." Ten grunts, straightening his posture. "He essentially hides in abandoned sheds in the middle of the forest."

 

"You already told us that. You talked about sheds ... were you telling the truth?"

 

Ten rolled his eyes and Mike wondered what kind of face Ten would have been if he had not grown up in Brenner's hands. Well, he certainly would not be a nerd, much less a guy who went unnoticed.

 

"I didn’t look so surprised ... I talked about two houses ... which are sheds, I just mentioned two, but there are others ... There's a surprisingly convenient amount of abandoned sheds in this area, you know?" Ten stretched, trying to simulate a relaxed posture. "Most of them are unfinished works for new laboratories or just ... old houses or constructions."

 

"How many possibilities would you say?" He leaned closer to the boy, afraid that Holly would overhear something and let it go. "And where?"

 

"In Hawkins there are three sheds, he hid us there, one north, south, and east." Ten replies without hesitation and either he is telling the truth, or that is a long-planned lie. "But there are two others a little further from here: one is on the outskirts of town and another is very close to her family."

 

 

"Her family is here."

 

"Dude, I know Eleven has a problem with her aunt and that makes you have problems with the woman, but she's still your girlfriend's family. You can’t ignore that." Ten's eyes shine with a little pity. "Pap ... Brenner knew she cared about her mother, her aunt, and her family, so he chose to keep an eye on them."

 

Something inside Mike's mind pops, a recent memory of El bursting and calling her aunt. She knew about the shed that existed near Becky Ives's house, so she'd called her aunt to see if it was all right. There was the possibility that Brenner was in that shed with El, a very high possibility given the reaction El had had.

 

All wasn’t lost.

 

"These sheds you're talking about, more specifically what's next to Ives, is right where?" He shifted, uneasy at the possibility of finding El. "Do you know the exact location?"

 

"No. The only thing I know is that they're hiding in the woods." Mike wilts a little and Ten seems to want to justify himself. "I'm sorry, I only know that." Brenner didn’t usually take me to that area, Nissa is the only one who had access to them.

 

"Alright, that's enough." Mike stands up with confidence, the feeling that this had been a breakthrough. "Anything else I should know? Anything you think can help me?"

 

Ten stares at the space ahead of him, as if he's seeing something Mike wasn’t. His nose was still bleeding, and if it were El or someone he cared for, he would have offered a handkerchief to dry it. Mike's pocket was full of handkerchiefs, all reserved for occasional bleeding that El might end up with.

 

"Do you know what my sister's powers are?" He nodded in denial and Ten seemed exasperated by it. It was as if he expected Mike to know that. "Nine can make you feel pain, it can drive you crazy in pain, but it's not real." The only real thing is, in the whole thing it is the sensation. "

 

Mike, who shuddered visibly at the other's words, tries not to look shaken.

 

He'd tasted Nissa's powers himself, and though it sounded crazy, there was a small part of him that knew that Nissa had been pious, that she could have done far worse. She'd been bleeding before him, yes, but it had probably been for the effort of attacking both he and El. Nissa seemed far more than capable of driving someone crazy with her powers, and if she had not done it with Mike it wasn’t out of pity. Nissa was cunning, had not a little goodness in her body.

 

He tried to dispel the memory of the pain he had felt the day before. The imaginary fire burning his body, the pain of El's loss that equaled that ... It had been awful, but it had not yet gone so far as to go mad. And then the worst thought came to Mike's mind: what if Nissa tried to use full force on El, and what if she tried to drive El to madness? Worse! What if she achieved her goal?

 

"She can also get inside your head," Ten continues, pretending not to notice Mike's reaction. "It causes you to have thoughts and actions. If any of your friends acted like it wasn’t him in the last days, it was her fault."

 

He immediately thought of Will. Not in Max, who had acted abnormally, but in Will, who had been a thousand times worse than she. Will, the brother for whom El had worshiped and who had come to treat her as if she were garbage. Oh yeah! Now it was explained Will's show and his cruel words that had destroyed El's heart. Now everything was explained.

 

The sense of pity for Will, who had been manipulated to act like another, was no greater than the feeling of regret he felt for El. God, she'd been dragged away from there believing her brother really hated her and blamed her for everything that had happened to him. My poor El. If only you could know.

 

"Will ..."

 

"It was both of us!" Ten assured him, and the conviction in his voice made Mike want to vomit. "Nine put the ideas in his head, made him have bad thoughts about her My part was to make him angry with the world and especially hers.  It was difficult, you know? I could not act very accurately until my sister came in. in action."

 

It was good to know that Will wasn’t being an asshole on his own, that he was still good, old Will, and that he was trustworthy.

 

"Listen, Will will be in charge while I'm gone. Anything you think can help us find her, anything, you tell her." Mike instructed, looking up to find Holly laughing with a bunch of green-tinted feathers from an old El and Will art work. "And don’t try ..."

 

"Any kind of evil." Ten complete looking exhausted. "Dude, I honestly will not do anything, I've done enough of it for a living now.

 

"Michael! Michael, honey, where are you? Honey, please ... I need to talk to you."

 

Holly, covered in green feathers, immediately rushes into the arms of her older brother to hear his name being spoken by their mother. Ten is erect, his posture indicating he would be to engage in body wrestling if necessary. Cursing to himself, Mike wondered what the hell his mother was doing there.

 

Certainly she had advanced their departure and was there to be gone. Yes, that was it. It could only be since Karen Wheeler had always respected his space, she thought as she left the shed and left to find her mother with her heels jammed in a puddle of what had been snow, but which had turned into mud.

 

"Michael, my dear!" She exclaims, her voice hoarse indicating the beginning of a crying crisis that had been suppressed with exquisite talent. His mother was good at it. "What were you doing in there? And ... Why does my daughter look like a tropical bird in the middle of winter?"

 

He shrugged as Holly even deigned to look at her mother.

 

"Honey, I know you're upset ..."

 

"I'm not." Not now that the possibility that I can find El is not completely ruled out, she added mentally. "Are we going yet?"

 

"Yes, dear, your things are already in the car and ..."

 

Mike goes forward without waiting to hear another word from his mother or to say something to her. He remained silent even in the car and with the vehicle in motion. He is aware that he is being rude and that he now has a reason to feel good about going to his grandparents' house, but that doesn’t mean he will be talking to either of them. The two had still excluded him from the decisions of the family, they continued to act as if he were a child without opinion, so it wasn’t as if he was starting a conversation with them.

 

When Holly, the only person in the car in whom he is not giving an ice (an infantile reaction, he knows), Mike sees himself with El's diary as the only distraction. Somehow he had managed to quarrel with his mother, carry Holly in his lap, draw a "plan" with Ten all the time with El's diary in hand.

_All right_ , leafed through the diary absent-mindedly, _where can I begin to read and not be overly invasive? Where should I start?_ Finally, he decided that he would begin in the last few weeks, believing that in the other pages there would be nothing to contribute.

 

December 15

_ Ten said that Brenner has a shed near Auntie Becky's house and I worry because if it's the shed I'm thinking of, the same thing I hide whenever she gets too boring for my patience, he's very close to House. I mean, it's not easy to locate, but it's not too difficult either. A twenty-minute walk east of the backyard of Aunt Becky's house leads up to it, but I never considered the possibility of Brenner being there. I never wanted to think about his being alive. _

__

_ And please, dear God, may he not be so close to them. I don’t want him to be so close to my mother, my aunt, and my cousins. I don’t want him to get close to Becky's daughters. I tried to warn, I tried to warn her, but she didn’t believe me. Incredibly, she didn’t scold me in a mentally disturbed as she always does, but she didn’t believe me either. _

__

_ I wanted her to believe me, to have left home with my mother and my cousins, but she didn’t do that and the only thing I can do is keep an eye on them. This idea is probably going to tire me, mainly because I've tried to do the same with Mike and the guys, but it's my only option. _

 

He closed the diary in time to note that the only people in the car were him, Nancy and Holly. Curious to see if they had arrived, he leaned over to the car window and then saw his mother talking to a man dressed in a green and orange uniform. Oh, they were at a gas station. He still had time to read a few more pages of El's diary.

 

"Mike" Nancy called him and even without looking at her, he knows she rolls her eyes when he ignores her. "Come on, Mike, how long will you be acting like a kid?"

 

"I'm not acting like a kid." He mumbled poking the cover of the diary. "And I also don’t want to talk about what you're doing to me, pulling me out of Hawkins."

 

"It's for your safe, Mike, I don’t want you to get hurt ..." She swallows as Mike points to his face with sarcasm. "Even more than you're hurt. You could not do anything to help find her, you know. You would only disrupt the searches and perhaps even put yourself in danger. I'm trying to protect you, Mike. Protect our family."

 

"I don’t need you to protect me, Nancy, I've got these things, with El, since I was 12. I don’t need this protection." He could not speak loudly or raise his voice, to do so would wake up Holly and attract the attention of their mother. "You should have stayed at Hawkins, with your boyfriend, supporting him."

 

He looked away again to the window. His mother was still talking to the gas station clerk, she was staring at him irritably while the guy seemed to count the money she had delivered.

 

"Jonathan asked me to come here with Mom and you, told me to keep an eye on you because you get into trouble too easily." A hesitant sigh echoes through the car. Holly moves in her sleep and grunts a little before she sits still. "I'm pregnant. Congratulations, Uncle Mike."

 

All Mike's thoughts freeze, his breath hitch for a few seconds before returning to normal. He doesn’t know how to react to that news or what he should say. Of course, several girls at school had already gotten pregnant (which had made Hopper paranoid to the point where he and El had not been allowed to stay indoors for more than ten minutes), but he had never thought that Nancy, ever so sure of herself in every possible way, she would remain.

 

It was hard to believe that in the next few months Nancy, his sister, would have a little someone in his arms calling her "mama." Nancy, who had always been thin and who had never had a way with children (she had knocked him down on the floor when he was a baby about six times, she kept hurting him unintentionally and not counting the times she had forced food down his throat) would soon become an acorn of hormones.

 

"Congratulations?" He blushed at himself. "Uh ... Does Mom and Jonathan already know that?"

 

"So far only Jonathan knew..." Mike swallows. He didn’t want to be the first to know the news. "Well, you and El are now included in the list of who knows about the novelty. Yesterday morning, as soon as she saw me, she congratulated me and said she was happy for me. She didn’t ask, just congratulated me.”

 

Mike nodded absently. It was typical for El to surprise someone by her powers and her kindness.

 

"She does it."

 

"I know she does." Nancy runs a hand through her blond hair, her hands shaking. "I ... Mike, I could not stay in Hawkins being as I’m, and I could not let you stay either. It's not that I don’t love El, because I love her too, Mike, but I have to take care of you. You’re my little brother, Please, Mike, you need to understand that I didn’t do it to be bad or to hurt you. "

 

He understood Nancy's reasons, she really understood now that she had explained the outcome of the pregnancy. She was as worried about her baby as she was about them.

 

"I don’t want to lose my baby girl" Nancy continues to speak and Mike doesn’t lose the way she makes clear her belief in the child's sex is not even born yet. Maybe she put the name of Barb's child. "I don’t want Holly to be traumatized, I don’t want you to get hurt."

 

She leaned her head against the car window, closing her eyes as she felt the comforting chill run through her skin.

 

Nancy didn’t want to lose them and he didn’t want to lose El. He would not lose her. Taking him away from Hawkins would not make him give up on El, just give him a new direction and a new way to find her.

 

 

 


End file.
